Batgirl Begins
by Thesilentmage
Summary: Barbara Gordon has watched time and time again those around her sacrifice everything for the sake of their beloved Gotham City. Now, with the Batman mysteriously absent, and a mad warlord on the rampage, the time has finally come for her turn to risk it all in the name of protecting Gotham. [A TDKR re-imagining, as if Barbara had been included in the movies]
1. The Beginning

Barbara hated goodbyes; she always had. Even as a child she had refused to wave off her relatives after they'd visited on Sunday afternoons. It was partially to do with the fact that, to her, saying goodbye symbolised yet something else in her life disappearing from her.

First, it had been her grandparents moving away to their newest country home in Ohio; and then it had been her friend Kylie moving away to Boston for her dad's new job back in sixth grade. There had also been that time her uncle had driven off to Seattle for 'work' with his new girlfriend Candy, and after 9 years still hadn't returned. To her, goodbyes were far too often and always painful.

Take this morning, for example, standing in the doorway of her home wrapped in her oldest blue knitted jumper- yet another goodbye - and this one was unusually painful.

She watched with a heavy heart as the worn, beaten up car below her was filled with numerous boxes and bags of all shapes and sizes. Most of it, the stuff she had known growing up. There were boxes full of books, clothes and other items she recognised, all of it stuff that should be back inside her home right now. But then again, what was the point in keeping it in a house that was nearly empty anyway? Especially now her mother was going, taking her brother with her. However, she had to admit, it was all probably for the best.

Her brother Jimmy hadn't slept in weeks, his dreams full of that dreadful night over three years ago. He had been coming in more and more regularly to sleep with her in her bed, which he hadn't done since he was five. It worried her. Since the night with Dent and the Batman, he'd not been the same; none of them had been. Their family had been changed forever and Barbara knew it wasn't for the better. Jimmy was slowly sinking away from the boy she'd known him to be, once so full of life and joy. It had just been getting worse and worse.

Plus, there was the small matter of her mother and father arguing all the time. Sure, as a kid she'd witnessed them having the occasional tantrum, but all parents fought. It was normal. However, it had been happening more and more recently.

Most nights Barbara sat in her room, her door ajar, listening to the feud as it raged in the kitchen. She knew Jimmy did the same. It was just like listening to a broken record. Night after night, the battles raged till dawn driving them all slowly insane.

Both she and her brother knew the truth, things weren't right, even if their parents denied such ideas whenever one of them dared to raise it.

If only one of them could just have said something. It was too late now though. Her whole world seemed to be falling apart and she could do nothing to stop it.

Barbara shook her head, turning back inside the house.

The hallway was surprisingly empty now, what with the walls bare of their usual picture frames and the shelves deprived of their ornaments, exposing the once vibrant blue paint on the walls.

She looked up as the floorboards creaked ahead. Barbara watched as her Mom suddenly appeared at the top of the hall, armed with the final bags of her stuff.

Barbara smiled weakly and stepped towards her.

"Want a hand?" she breathed, trying to get the words out without breaking into tears. She wasn't ashamed to admit it; she would miss her mother. She wanted her to stay here, with her. The pain inside was all too raw. Watching as her mother took their life with her out the door, Barbara couldn't help but wince.

Her mother shook her head gently, placing the bags down at her feet as she reached her eldest.

"You do know, you don't have to stay here. Even if he is your father," she whispered, her eyes almost pleading with her eldest. Barbara could see a similar pain to her own in her mother's eyes and could hear it in her voice.

Barbara sighed silently to herself. How many times had they already had this argument? She didn't want to go another round, not now especially. "I want to stay Mom. Honestly," she answered smoothly, sliding a loose strand of her fiery red hair behind her ear. She had her mother's hair. It made them look almost identical.  
They both were rather short and had matching hair that never seemed to behave, much to Barbara's annoyance. Barbara had inherited her mother's appearance, but it was clear she had her father's attitude. The fact she had fought her way into staying here, in Gotham, was proof enough of her iron will.

Her mother shook her head slowly. "You could come with us. It's not too late; We'd wait for you to go get ready. Besides, he'd understand."

It seemed her mother would never stop trying to persuade her to go. Yet, Barbara had made her mind up. She wasn't going back on her word now. She was staying here, in Gotham. It was final.

Barbara simply responded by throwing herself into her mother's arms and burying her head in her shoulder. The feeling of her mother's arms around her was a comforting one, and as she inhaled the familiar scent of her mother's perfume she felt a single tear escape her eyelids.

"I can't leave him Mom; he needs me. Besides, my whole life's in Gotham. Friends, school-"

"-but not me."

Her mother's words cut into her like a knife. Didn't she think she knew that detail already?

Barbara pulled back so that she could see her Mom's eyes, welling with tears. It broke her heart to say this, but her mother was the one tearing the family apart: Not her. God. Why couldn't she just stay here? Keep the family together. Were things so far gone they couldn't be fixed?

"I love you Mom, but I … can't. Just promise me, you'll look after him," Barbara whispered, looking towards the car outside. She could see the dirty blond hair of her brother against the passenger window as he waited. Barbara would miss that idiot. She'd miss her hugs with him, their fights over nothing… But Jimmy wasn't well. She knew it. Even her parents could see it.

Oh well. Maybe a while away from Gotham would be good for him. Who knew? Maybe that was one positive of all this?

Barbara could only hope. "He needs you, Mom," she sighed.

"And I need you, Babs… you're my baby." Her mother squeezed her shoulder tightly in her thin elegant fingers and kissed her forehead with love.

Barbara looked back at her mother slowly. "You may be my mother. But, you're his too."

Barbara's mother must have finally got the message, as she sighed weakly and stepped back in surrender. She reached down and took the bags back in her hands.

"Fine, but the moment you want to come down: Call us, we'll only be a few hours away."

"Ok. Promise," she agreed in return, shaking her head. "Now, you'd better get going else you'll hit the traffic," Barbara smiled.

Her Mom nodded weakly and looked towards the kitchen. "Should I-?"

Barbara paused and nodded, knowing the end of the sentence already. "Say goodbye. He'll appreciate it."

"Who will?" came the gruff reply.

Both girls turned in surprise and looked at the figure that stood hunched in the doorway. How long had he been stood there?

Barbara hardly recognised her dad anymore these days. He hadn't shaved and had stubble all over his chin, plus he had big dark bags where his eyes used to be. His shirt was creased and all this with her Mom was not helping. Her father had always had poor health with his job; the long hours and stress were enough to wear any man down. Unfortunately, home wasn't any better.

She rubbed her neck and stepped back watching the scene unfold. Things had been tense between her parents recently. She could hardly bear it. Most of the time they would hardly say anything to each other unless it was to yell about something.

Her Mom seemed to unfreeze from her surprise and stepped towards her husband slowly. "I was just going to-"

"Goodbye," he sighed icily, cutting her off as he stood upright and turned from them back to the kitchen.

Barbara stared irritatedly. Sometimes, he was unbelievable. Couldn't he swallow his pride even now? Even just to say goodbye?

"Dad," she warned, reaching for him.

"Safe journey," he nodded over his shoulder, not paying any attention.

Her Mom froze, visibly trying to swallow the hurt written across her face. "Jim," she tried again, her expression falling.

"Hurry on now."

"Please, dad," Barbara begged, her desperation clear in her voice. She didn't want this to be how they parted. Could he do this, for her?

Jim Gordon stopped, gazing at his daughter and wife, sighing slowly once more. He knew she was right, he was being stubborn. He just didn't want to face the reality of the situation. He finally took a small step forward and hugged his wife in his arms.

"I'll miss you," he breathed into his wife's hair.

Despite the calm and composed exterior, Barbara could see the pain in her father's face. He didn't want her to go. He wanted his family together. Barbara wanted that too, more than anything. However, she stood perfectly still, watching the exchange.

Barbara's Mom took a moment, whispering something in her father's ear; something Barbara failed to hear, but she did see the flicker of a smile on her dad's face. Her mother let go slowly and walked backward.

"This isn't permanent Jim, you know that right?"

An awkward silence filled the house; the only noise was the young kid honking the horn in the car outside.

Her mother glanced over her shoulder at the door. "That's my cue."

Barbara hugged her mother once more and aided her with the bags. Together they stumbled down the iron stairs into the empty courtyard below. She heard her father following them outside into the warm summer afternoon.

Barbara handed her Mom the bags and waved to her animated sibling, who waved back excitedly at her. Her Mom smiled at them lovingly once more and slid inside the car, starting the engine without much more fuss.

"Bye, baby," she smiled with a small wave.

"Bye, Mom," Barbara breathed, becoming drowned out by the loud stereo beginning to blast into the air as they reversed out of the courtyard.

After a moment more, the car had disappeared down the road, leaving Barbara watching emptily. She missed her Mom already.

A hand softly landed on her shoulder as her dad stepped beside her. She knew he missed her already too. She could see it in his eyes as he gazed after the car. He remained quiet for a long minute before he finally turned and looked down at Babs.

"You could have gone… I mean, do you really, and honestly want to stay?"

The question caught her off guard even though, for Barbara, the answer was easy. "I do Dad, I love you," she said leaning forward, and hugging him tightly in her arms. He hugged her back, not wanting to let go of the last of his family.

"I love you too, Babs," he replied, kissing the side of her head. The gesture made her feel a little better.

They remained together for a few minutes like that; taking in the comfort that each of them gave the other. Neither cared about the neighbours who they knew could see them from the surrounding apartments. Let them stare if they wanted to. They didn't care.

Eventually, they let each other go and headed back into their empty home.

So, it was just them now.

Barbara felt her father's hand coil around her waist and she smiled for a second, blocking out the empty hallway. Her home seemed eerily quiet without her mother and brother.

She just wanted to curl up in her bed and sleep this day away; pretend that it had never happened. She now knew what it had felt like when her friend's parents got divorced- not that her parents were getting divorced, they were having a break - A very, very… very long break.

Once they were back inside the apartment, she closed the front door. Her father disappeared into his study, leaving her stewing in her emotions. Barbara slowly trudged into the shower upstairs, turned on the hot water and used her lavender shampoo, filling the air with a deep aromatic scent. She loved lavender. It was her favourite smell and made her relaxed.

Technically it was her mother's shampoo. It had always been a bit of a running joke about how quickly they went through bottles of the stuff in this house, which was why as she used it, she felt a tear escape down her cheek.

She spent a while, scrubbing and brushing before finally wrapping herself inside a fluffy towel. Barbara stumbled back into her room before dressing in an old t-shirt and pair of joggers that were far too big for her. Her answer was simply to roll up the ankles and let her wet hair hang on her shoulders. She always had preferred comfort over style, but that was Barbara for you: she was a simple girl. There were only a few things she really cared about in life: Her family; her friends and work.

As it was, she'd recently applied for an internship at the DA's office. She hadn't exactly said to her father about it yet, (he'd had enough to worry about), but he could hardly object to it. It was just part-time work helping with administration and watching things around the place after school.

They also offered an apprenticeship, which Barbara was seriously considering signing up for when she turned eighteen in a few years. It meant she'd be able to study a law degree whilst getting practical experience where possible. It wasn't exactly the same as being a cop, but it was much better. Although, her dad _had_ always been overprotective of things like this, but she knew it would be good for her: a chance to fight crime in Gotham for herself. Never mind, she'd mention it later.

"Dad?" she called loudly as she exited her room.

"Babs?" he replied, appearing in the hallway.

"What's for dinner?"

He paused a moment, considering her question. They both knew how empty their fridge was currently.

"How's pizza?"

"Great," she smirked. "I'll call."

Within the hour, they were sandwiched on the worn sofa, stuffing their faces with greasy pepperoni and half watching an old cop movie that they'd both seen before.

Barbara knew they only watched it to avoid the … rather large… elephant in the room. Eventually they fell asleep buried in the cushions and blankets, and personally, she was glad. It was the two of them - that was it. They were in this together, and how bleak it seemed. Lying in her father's arms she realised how much they needed each other. Gotham was a city for those who were strong. That's who she'd be. She would be strong, not just for herself, but for her dad too. She had to be.

* * *

 _2 years later:_

It was a busy summer morning. Barbara could tell the fact as she was dressed in a loose, crisp white blouse and tailored, grey work trousers, attempting to look as professional as possible. However, she'd regretted the decision as soon as she felt the heat of the sun outside. It was baking, and she felt stuffy. She'd also worn a pair of short black heels, and scraped her mess of hair into a ponytail.

She made her way inside the heaving building, trying to make sense of where she was even supposed to be. What a great start to her career. Couldn't she even find her way to her first meeting?

She groaned, turning and almost colliding with a woman, headed toward her.

Both stopped, staring at the other.

However, it was the woman that spoke first. "Hi. Excuse me, do you know where room..." She paused as she stared at a post-it note attached to her folder. "223b is?"

Barbara shook her head. "No, sorry. I was about to ask you the same question but, guessing as you just asked me, it's safe to say you don't know either," she smiled as she gazed around the hectic office building. This was chaos in its truest form. At least it seemed she wasn't the only one suffering now.

"This place has me well and truly lost, and personally, it's too early for me to deal with this," the girl continued, brushing her hair back off her shoulder in a hair swish that was nothing less than vogue- worthy.

Barbara couldn't help but agree, nodding her head at the statement. "At least you brought yourself a coffee," she smirked, pointing with some jealousy at the steaming cup of coffee perched in the girl's well-manicured hand. "I wasn't smart enough to. Now, I am seriously regretting that decision."

"Oh yeah," the girl chuckled, gesturing to the Styrofoam cup in her hand. "Juice of the gods in my opinion, can't manage a day without it."

As if on cue, she took another long sip, wiping a little of her pink lip-gloss onto the rim. Barbara smiled, adjusting her bag as it threatened to slip off her shoulder.

"Same. My dad usually works late hours, so we both tend to heavily rely on the good old cup-of-joe."

Barbara heard the girl laugh again.

"What's your dad do?"

Barbara paused, biting her lip. This was always slightly awkward. She usually tried to avoid this topic in particular. "My dad... He's a cop," she breathed slowly, looking down at the floor as she did.

"Same, again," the girl laughed, interrupting. Barbara looked up in surprise. "But in Starling City instead."

"You're from Starling?" Barbara queried curiously, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing here? In Gotham?"

"You know, the usual reason: wanting to spread my wings and get my own life- that doesn't involve my dad breathing down my neck," she sighed, frowning a little as she did.

"That, I fully empathise with," Barbara muttered. Being the Commissioner's daughter wasn't exactly easy. It made social lives and even dating a nightmare. Luckily, her introverted nature had meant it wasn't that often a problem arose.

"Your dad's not as bad as mine."

"Want a bet?" Barbara laughed at the comment. "My dad's the commissioner. Try having that as your father figure, especially when you don't have a Mom as well."

The girl shrugged casually. "That I fully empathise with too. My Mom doesn't live with us. It was just me, my dad and my sister- Laurel."

"Sorry to hear it."

"Don't be. I'm Diane by the way. Diane lance."

"Pleasure to meet you, I'm Barbara Gordon."

Both girls extended a hand and shook the others, smiling as they did. After a moment they released each other. Diane was the first to continue their discussion.

"Well, I can see that you're following your father's influence with the whole legal thing then."

"Well, I always wanted to be a cop but well... With my dad- I'm sure you know. He didn't want another hero in the family."

Diane smirked, rolling her eyes. "Oh, so you're fighting for justice another way? Smart."

"Exactly." Barbara blushed a little at the compliment and giggled. She was relieved Diane did the same.

"I'm just here because, personally, I like the pay."

Barbara paused, not sure what to say to that.

"God. I'm joking," Diane laughed suddenly, swatting her arm and breaking the tense silence that had just descended upon them. "As if. No, I genuinely find the law fascinating."

Barbara laughed in relief. "Cool. That's a relief. I'm sorry... I'm just spouting a lot of personal crap and I've just met you."

"Don't worry. I have that effect on people," Diane smirked. "But I like you, Red."

Barbara paused. She replayed the word in her head. Red? That was a new nickname.

She liked it.

As she opened her mouth to reply she was cut off by a high pitched voice from behind them that startled them both.

"Are you both here for the apprenticeships?"

They both turned, looking up at the woman who'd disturbed them. Barbara saw the immaculately dressed assistant stood before them, welding her clipboard and Blackberry like they were the greatest of swords. In this office though, they probably were.

Barbara and Diane nodded in unison.

The woman smiled and gestured behind her. "This way then, please. We're just down the hall."

They'd barely taken a step when Barbara felt a hand on her arm.

"Please sit near me. I don't want to get stuck next to some old goon," Diane whispered suddenly to her, eyeing the woman as she walked off ahead of them.

"Promise," Barbara agreed, grateful to have found someone to share this with. She didn't exactly like the prospect of sitting alone either in the board room.

Diane smiled wider at her. "I think we'll be good friends, Barbara Gordon."

* * *

3 _years later:_

To every normal person in Gotham, no, to be more precise - the world, Friday marked the end of a hard weeks work either at school or the office. It marked the beginning of a two-day freedom. Two days to do anything you wanted and not worry about being attacked by criminals like the mob… Well, unless you were a Gordon.

Barbara hated Fridays- to her they signified the end of a week of work, studying and cases. She had been amazed her father had even allowed her to take this job in the DA's office, but he really hadn't had a lot of choice when she'd told him two years ago.

Barbara sighed loudly, chewing hard on the rubber on her pencil. She hated paperwork and being a full-time student and trainee attorney meant that there usually was a lot to catch up on. That was probably why once again, she was here alone in the office at 7 pm on a Friday.

She paused the music that was playing through her earphones and shoved her books back inside her bag. She was going home. There was only so much paperwork she could take in one night, and besides- the receptionist kept looking at her strangely. No one else but he was usually here this late. Everyone else bolted as soon as the clock struck five. Unfortunately, Barbara had never been like that and put her workload first. Her boss had said that she was taking a part in their newest case: An actual shot at one of the major players in the now reformed Mob. She couldn't afford to slack off.

Privately, she knew it wasn't just the work that kept her here every night. It probably had more to do with the fact that going home meant normality. It meant dinner, dishes, and dad (If he ever made it away from his own job). For some reason, they both acted out the same charade every week of being a normal family; which they were not. She loved her dad more than anything, so at least that was positive: she got to spend some time with him.

She stood up and tucked the chair back under the desk quickly. She turned and began to stroll out of the all too eerie office. She replaced her books back onto the dusty mahogany shelves and nodded to the receptionist as she went.

She pulled on her coat and slid out the front doors. She noted as she exited the building that it was freezing tonight. Part of her wondered if it was early wintery breezes. She tilted her head down and hurried home.

"Hi dad!" she called loudly, dumping her bag down on the floor and removing her coat as she closed the front door behind her. "How was work?"

There was a sudden loud bang- probably from saucepans- and a loud cry from the kitchen. Two seconds later her dad appeared, armed with a tea towel and apron.

"Hi, Babs didn't hear you come in. You gave me a fright."

"Sorry," she apologised quickly.

"No, it's ok. How was work anyway?" he chuckled. She grinned, walking over and hugging him warmly.

"Fine- boring, but fine." She shrugged casually in response.

"Good. I'm making you dinner."

Barbara pulled back from him as her head was instantaneously filled with burnt, grey dishes lying on the table for her. "Uh…? Why?"

Her dad smiled and patted her shoulder. "I'm out tonight, remember? That whole Dent thing at Wayne manor tonight? I have to do that ridiculous speech."

"Oh that," she breathed. She remembered it was Dent day. Everyone in the office had been discussing the party tonight that was taking place up at Wayne Manor. Barbara had forgotten all about it. She hated these sort of things. "You'll be fine. You've been practicing that speech all week," she assured him, biting her lip nervously at the thought of him delivering the speech he'd been writing all week.

Her dad nodded and turned to the kitchen muttering to himself quietly. Barbara heard the groan. "That's not what I'm worried about."

She shook her head in confusion but said nothing and followed him. As she entered the room she stared down at the tray of mac and cheese that sat steaming on the table in front of her.

"Well, at least it isn't burned."

"Ha ha," he teased sarcastically. He seemed almost a little proud of his culinary creation. Barbara couldn't help but giggle. "You be quiet missy," he scolded, swatting her with a tea towel. She grinned even more as she dodged it with ease.

"I won't say a word." She crossed her heart and her father rolled his eyes, looking down at his watch.

"Good. I need to run and get ready… I don't suppose you want to go?"

"Hell no," she chuckled instantly. "All I do is end up eating shrimp balls listening to the Mayor drone on about the absent Batman. Good luck though. I'm going to stay and enjoy my lovely mac and cheese."

Her dad smirked at the comment, letting the slight insult slip by. "Well, keep the door locked and I'll be back later."

"Yeah. Now … go." Barbara laughed, pushing him towards the door.

Damn it.

She felt bad. He needed her there tonight. He always needed her at stupid social functions like this. They were a team; the two Gordons'. She couldn't let him face the crowd of people that would be there tonight alone. They were ruthless.

"Dad… Wait!" she began, dashing to her own room. "They better be amazing shrimp balls."

All she heard was her dad's faint laughter echo through the apartment.


	2. Chapter 1

"Harvey Dent day may not be our oldest public holiday," Mayor Anthony Garcia declared, "but we're here tonight as it's one of the most important. Harvey Dent's uncompromised stand against organised crime and, yes, ultimately, his sacrifice, have made Gotham a safer place than it was at the time of his death, eight years ago."

Behind him a large mounted picture of Harvey Dent was illuminated by spotlights, shining on their noble prince. His familiar eerie grin shone down on the crowd like an old toothpaste commercial.

Barbara felt sick to just look at it.

A fashionable crowd stood on the moonlit grounds of Wayne Manor. Elegant men and women, representing the cream of Gotham society, listened politely to the Mayor's speech as they mingled and chatted amongst themselves.

Bright lights dispelled the newly refurbished manor in all its gothic glory and elegant jewellery glittered on women in designer evening gowns, escorted by men in tailored tuxedos and silk suits.

Champagne glasses clinked. Waiters maneuvered through the party, offering fresh drinks and canapés. It was a beautiful fall evening and everything was simply perfect.

Barbara sighed a little, finishing the last shrimp ball she'd taken from a passing waiter. God, she hated parties. As soon as they'd arrived earlier on, her father had been swallowed up by people all wishing to be seen talking to the 'great Commissioner Gordon'. As per usual, she was thrown aside by them.

Who was she but the innocent kid of the commissioner? She had no purpose to them. So instead, she had strolled around in the gardens for a while, smiling and meeting those people who came to actually talk to her; most of them police officers she'd met growing up, which was why now she was so terribly bored.

She stood in the pavilion opposite the stand and watched as the Mayor continued his speech.

"This city has seen a historic turnaround," The mayor continued absently. He was a lean man whose photogenic looks had survived several years in office. "No city is without crime. But this city is without _organized_ crime because the Dent act gave law enforcement teeth in its attack on the mob. Now people are talking about repealing the Dent act. To them I say… not on my watch!"

An enthusiastic round of applause came from the surrounding crowds, greeting the Mayor's words. Everyone in this crowd had benefitted from the new prosperous Gotham. One could safely invest in their city again and reap the rewards. No wonder the mayor had been re-elected for his third term of office Barbara thought privately.

Personally, it made Barbara sick: No, not that her city was surviving. No. That made her happy. What made her sick was the fact that everyone here was so naïve to the truth. Dent was no hero… but every time she mentioned it her father told her to not say anything. _Why lie?_ People should know.

Would her father ever tell anyone? The question had burned in her mind all these years. She simply didn't know. Tonight, once more she found herself musing the question; would her father say anything?

How many more Dent days would there be till they all knew the truth?

"I want to thank the Wayne foundation for hosting this event tonight," Mayor Garcia added. "I am told Mr. Wayne couldn't be here tonight in body, but I'm sure he's here in spirit."

Barbara rolled her eyes. _Maybe he just doesn't want to attend this farce_ she thought emptily, helping herself to another glass of champagne from a young and rather cute waiter that strolled past her. Before she could take a sip she heard the sound of a voice suddenly pulling her from her miserable state, a very welcome voice.

"Well, well, Red. Don't you look amazing? It's nice to see you actually out of the office. What happened to the 'those kind of parties are beneath me'? "

Barbara turned with a smile already on her face. "Shut up, Lance," she laughed, facing her new arrival.

Diane and she had spent many hours together reviewing case notes and sharing coffee breaks discussing the more interesting of employees and cases. In Gotham, there was no shortage of either. Tonight though, Diane was currently stood directly in front of her, arms folded over the front of a very, _very_ low cut dress. It was a deep blue and trailed down to her ankles, masking a large set of heels.

Diane was a very typical beauty. Lustrous blond hair that hung in waves on her shoulders and her steely blue eyes drew the attention to her neat, chiseled face; a stark contrast to Barbara herself.

As she had walked through the crowd tonight she'd noticed a few stares in her direction and found it rather funny. She wasn't used to that sort of thing. She had made a small effort tonight, wearing a low cut, sleeveless black silk dress that cut off just at her knees. Her hair was swept back in a bun, and for once she wore a pair of small heels with a small clutch, completing the look. It was nothing near as fancy as the other women here, but none the less she felt she'd done alright. Diane, she knew, would be proud of the attention it had won her.

Diane Lance one of the best people, and best future lawyers, she knew.

Diane Lance was a rather lively character, and never took any hassle, one of the thousands of reasons Barbara loved her so much. Unsurprisingly they'd gotten on instantly. She could remember the day they met as if it was yesterday.

Regardless of their current attire, Barbara laughed and stepped forward to hug her friend. Diane accepted, hugging her back warmly in response.

"I'm glad you came," Diane chuckled, releasing Barbara a moment later. "I've had Derek trailing me all night asking if I want to dance. I never thought I'd get rid of him."

Barbara rolled her eyes as she stepped out the hug. "Shut up," she teased. "He's a very decent guy. I'm only here tonight to support my Dad – you know that. I don't dress like this for fun." She gestured to her dress, giving her a mock curtsey.

Diane smirked. "I do know that. You made it perfectly clear earlier when I was trying – very kindly, I might add – to find you a date for this evening. Remember?"

Barbara scoffed, shaking her head. "I certainly do. You came into my meeting to ask if I was-"

"-I was only trying to help," she retorted, shrugging innocently.

"I don't need your help. I wasn't even planning on coming tonight."

Diane just laughed again at her friend. "Yet you did."

"Again – to support my Dad. It was a very last minute decision."

"I'm sure it was," Diane teased. The look on her face told Barbara that she didn't believe that at all. "Where is your Dad then? I haven't seen him anywhere."

Diane's eyes trailed around the clusters of people surrounding them. Barbara turned also and scanned the busy looking tent area around them. Come to think of it… Where was he? She hadn't seen him since earlier when he was last seen talking to a reporter from GCN.

After a minute of craning her neck, she spotted him sat a few feet away at the bar with a glass in his hand, staring at the wooden surface intently. Uh oh. That wasn't good. She knew that look anywhere.

"There, he looks nervous. I should probably go check on him," she mumbled, gesturing to her father.

Diane nodded, spying the Commissioner for herself. "Sure. Wish the Commish good luck for me. I'll catch you later?"

"Definitely," Barbara replied. With a small smile, she made her way over, narrowly dodging the masses of people crammed inside the pavilion. She wedged herself beside her father at the bar and coughed gently, gaining his attention.

It was on nights like tonight he seemed older.

He looked up at her over the rims of his horned glasses in surprise as he turned to her.

"Need a date?" she smirked lightly, putting down her clutch bag the wooden surface with a clink.

Gordon chuckled lightly at her playful comment. He was obviously grateful for her company. "Any guy'd be lucky to have you as a date," he replied softly. "You don't need an old codger like me."

"You're my Dad. You have to say that. Besides… old codgers are the best kind of guys out there."

Gordon laughed sourly, swirling the contents of his glass. "Very funny honey, but still… I meant it: you look stunning tonight."

Barbara looked at her Dad and smiled warmly, leaning in to kiss his cheek. She could smell the faint odour of alcohol on him and winced in concern. She wasn't sure how many drinks he'd actually had tonight, but she knew he wasn't stupid. If he knew he was going up on stage it was safe to say it was probably only one or two.

"Why, thank you. Don't I feel special. See, that's why I love you."

Gordon smiled at her words. "I love you too, honey."

She could see he meant every word.

He took her hand softly in his, squeezing it lightly for support. She knew he was struggling tonight. This day in particular always was the hardest. It made liars of them all.

Barbara was about to reply to her father's comment, to tell him it would be ok, but was immediately cut off by the mayor, continuing his speech. Someone needed to confiscate that microphone. Fast.

"Now I'm going to give way to an important voice," The mayor continued, snagging the two Gordon's attention towards the stage.

"Commissioner." A hearty voice suddenly interrupted their train of thought.

Barbara's eyes drifted over at the figure approaching them and paused. Congressman Byron Gilly. She recognised him from his recent photos in the Gotham Gazette. It was some opening or other… Back then he'd been smiling widely and waving to the crowds. However, tonight, judging from the man's rugged and slightly swaying figure Barbara guessed he'd already helped himself to a drink or two. A slightly different approach she mused privately.

She none the less smiled politely and bit back the comment. The congressman himself was a stocky man, flush with prosperity. His haircut probably cost more than a beat cop's average salary. _Good for some…_

"Congressman," Her father answered cheerfully, standing to greet the man. _Always the professional_ Barbara thought quietly.

The two men shook hands. The congressman hadn't seemed to notice her. Typical… However, his eyes did drift about the place interestedly. He seemed to be taking in every detail of their grand surroundings.

"Ever lay eyes on Wayne at one of these things?" he asked smoothly, obviously trying to strike up a conversation.

Gordon shook his head.

"No one has," came another voice.

Barbara, and the two men, turned interested to see the new arrival to their party.

"Not for several years."

Peter Foley, her father's Deputy Commissioner, joined them at the bar. A real up and comer, half a decade younger than her Dad, but the man had already made a name for himself in the force. Dapper and well groomed, he wore his neatly fitted suit with more pride than her father.

There had been a time Barbara's mother would have made sure he was presentable at functions like this, but obviously, times had changed.

Foley nodded at the commissioner and Congressman, both of whom reached to shake his hand also. Foley's eyes then dropped over and fixed on Barbara. Seemed he'd finally noticed her.

"Ah Jim, this is your Barbara, right? ... Wow. She's grown. Last time I saw you, you were about waist high," he laughed, gesturing to his hip.

Jim nodded, stepping forward and placing a hand on her shoulder. Barbara grimaced silently at all the attention but nodded at Foley.

"Just like her mother. A real stunner."

Barbara blushed, a little bit embarrassed. At least he wasn't being smarmy, but she wasn't holding her breath. "Thank you," she laughed lightly at the comment.

Foley and her father smiled. The Congressman, though, seemed to have moved on. Ignoring the Mayor's speech, the Congressman grinned, spying an attractive brunette that breezed by, canapés balanced on her tray. She froze as the Congressman suddenly, and very rudely, grabbed her derrière.

Barbara opened her mouth to say something, but the maid seemed to have the situation under control. The maid turned around, a small fire concealed in her eyes. Barbara saw it though. She almost pitied him.

"Sweetheart," he loosely scolded. "Not so fast with the chow."

The maid took a second, swinging the tray to block the Congressman's rapid approach. "Shrimp ball?"

Barbara smirked at the vague insult. The Congressman seemed none the wiser and took a few, stuffing his face with them. _Gross…_

"Now anyway-" All attention was brought back to the podium as the Mayor finally seemed to have decided to hand over his microphone. "-I'll let him tell you all about Harvey himself. Commissioner Gordon?"

Barbara stopped, laying an arm on her father's and nodding weakly. "Go on, Dad. You'll do great," she whispered, giving him a reassuring wink.

Another year.

Would he do it?

Finally, tell the truth about Harvey Dent after all this time?

Gordon gulped down the last of his drink, beginning to maneuver his way towards the dais. As he stepped up to the mic he felt his heart drop. He felt like a convicted felon with all of the crowds' eyes fixated on him, and he could feel the heat from the spotlights shining down on him.

"The truth…" he began. A battery of doubts assailed him as his fingers gripped the pages in his hands firmly, his eyes dancing over the text. "I _have_ written a speech telling the truth about Harvey Dent," he continued calmly. He looked at his daughter across the room, watching as she stared at him from the bar. It was then he knew the answer. He'd already made his decision. Maybe she could forgive him for one more year. "But maybe the time isn't right…"

Barbara groaned ever so slightly in disappointment. Another year. Another opportunity was gone.

"Maybe all you need to know," he sighed smoothly. He was an expert at talking on the spot. "Is that there are 1000 inmates in Black gate prison as a direct result of the Dent act. These are violent criminals, central cogs in the organised crime machine that has terrorised Gotham for so long. Maybe, for now, all I should say about Harvey Dent is this – it hasn't been for nothing."

A round of applause filled the air. Barbara joined in and sighed as the party resumed. Jazz music began and people flooded onto the dance floor once more.

As her father approached she put the gentle comforting smile back on. "Well done," she began.

This was probably their cue to leave. Her father seemed like he'd had enough tonight – and he wasn't the only one.

"The second shift reports in?" Gordon asked looking at Foley calmly, walking straight past the man.

 _Back to business,_ Barbara thought dimly.

"On your desk, although I think you should put more time in with the Mayor," Foley grinned.

Gordon frowned disappointedly.

Barbara knew exactly how he felt. Being a cop wasn't about schmoozing with politicians. It was about hard work. Justice. Commitment. It was nights like this it was clear he felt he'd failed his city.

"That's your department," he snapped a little harshly.

With that, they left. Gordon placed his hand in Barbara's and they didn't look back, heading across the gravel driveway towards their car.

* * *

The car journey itself was a silent affair, neither said much – with good reason. Barbara couldn't help but think about it. Her father stood there; the truth lying at his fingertips. How could he just throw that away?

Gordon sat quietly, an odd mixture of guilt and disappointment were written across his face.

Barbara sighed, shifting in her seat. Someone had to break the silence. Yet again, she had the honour.

"Dad-" she began.

Her father immediately interjected, tightening his grip on the wheel. "Babs, don't ok? Please. I don't need to hear it."

"I think you do," she replied crossing her arms across her chest. "Otherwise you would have said something earlier instead of standing there, lying to everybody."

Jim sighed. Barbara didn't understand. How could she? This city was balancing on a knife's edge. All it took would be one push and they'd fall off again. He had vowed to never let that happen again. He would do whatever it took to keep this city safe, and if it meant lying like this then fine. So be it.

"Barbara, I just couldn't. I couldn't tell them and I've told you all the reasons why - I tell you them every year when you bring it up. For once can we just not have this argument?"

"No, Dad. You're the commissioner. People trust you, have faith in you. You can't just keep on lying to them."

"I can and I will until I decide the time is right!" he snapped a little forcefully, his eyes flickering to hers, sending a shiver down her spine. Enough so that Barbara knew she shouldn't push the subject any further. However, she ignored the warning. She was tired of playing this game. The last eight years had worn her down.

"Even if there never is a right time?" she asked bitterly. Part of her knew the answer, even if she didn't want to believe it.

"Yes, even then," he muttered, eyes fixed back on the road.

Barbara sighed and looked out the window at the houses whizzing by. It had started to drizzle slightly outside. She ran her fingers down the little droplet trails, letting her mind wander. Her Dad could be so difficult sometimes. They were alike in that aspect - That was what her mother always said.

She paused.

"I don't understand you sometimes – you talk of honour, justice, and truth. Where are any of those things in this mess? No-where," she began, turning to face him again. He didn't look at her, probably due to the guilt she guessed. "You put on this big charade that everything's fine when it's not. You're no better than the politicians you love to belittle – putting on a show for everyone. Nodding at camera's, lying to the world… you're a hypocrite," She murmured.

Silence.

She bit her lip.

She shouldn't have said that.

"Dad," she tried quickly, feeling almightily guilty. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. You're so much better than them you-"

"Barbara. Stop."

She did. The two words sounded so tired. So empty.

"You're right. You always are, but I can't do anything. The world is how it is. I'm just one man, what can I do?"

Barbara frowned and shook her head. "Never mind…" she mumbled. She closed her eyes and leaned into the soft leather upholstery. She ignored the seatbelt that dug into her chest. She simply wanted this night to be over.

"You may be one man, but you're the best man I've ever known," she whispered emptily into the silence.

Gordon didn't say anything. _If only that were true_ he thought to himself.


	3. Chapter 2

**_Thank you to everyone who has read, or reviewed this story so far. I really appreciate it, and love to hear from everyone! I love these movies, and I love Barbara Gordon as a character so I'm super excited to explore her, and this story, and see where it goes. xxx_**

* * *

The rooftop of Gotham City Police Headquarters; over the last few years, the somewhat abandoned and grimy rooftop had become something of a personal refuge for Commissioner Gordon. Up here, he was alone. Away from the nonstop phone calls, faxes, emails, meetings and bureaucracy that came with this damn job. He did his best detective work up here, left alone to think without constant interruption. It was where he had also begun the crusade to fix this city. With the Batman and Dent; but that all felt like a lifetime ago.

Gotham by night was a curious sight. The silence and stillness of the scene, mixed with the vast array of lights and cityscape made it seem like some piece of artwork, to be admired and enjoyed. Now, even in the early hours of the morning, streaks of crimson and ochre bled across the sky, a stark contrast to the jet black, still prominent up above, like brushstrokes of paint. There was a certain beauty in it.

Yet, in truth, in that stillness and silence, there was a dark reality. Who knew the truth of what was going on behind closed doors? Or in abandoned alleyways? _Let the politicians boast Gotham is clean of crime, h_ e thought bitterly. _All the while, we'll endeavour to actually make it that way._ He'd been a cop for too long to believe such empty declarations. Crime never slept, so neither did he.

Tonight, for instance, he should be at home getting some much-needed rest or still be at that God awful party at Wayne Manor. However, after the disaster that had been his evening, he hadn't felt like being around people, hence his hasty departure from the proceedings.

He'd driven home and dropped off Barbara. Part of him had wanted to remain at home with her, but having dropped her back, he realised he needed to be here. Working.

The Commissioner sighed, bashing a dusty air vent with a heavy stack of files clumsily, maneuvering to rest against the railings to begin reading them. Regardless, his eyes slid from the paperwork upwards, staring out into the night.

On clear nights, like tonight, you could get a decent view of Midtown, the bridges, and the neighboring islands. Some nights he wondered what it would have been like had he gone, left Gotham behind.

He didn't want to imagine. Not now, not when he didn't have a certain Dark Knight aiding him in their mission. Gordon didn't know what had become of the vigilante, and he devoted much of his time to ponder this question. Well, wherever he was, Gordon only hoped he was happy. He'd earned the right to be, and at least one of them should be.

Gordon cast a weary look at the abandoned spotlight, lying a mere few feet away from him. He'd personally destroyed the item years ago with a sledgehammer, yet he'd never had the heart to have it removed. It didn't feel right. So, here it remained. A reminder of the promise Gordon had made, and a reminder of the fight he was fighting.

"Sir?"

Gordon turned, slightly startled by the sound of someone standing behind him. He was even more surprised to see that it was a young, uniformed officer that had come to join him. There was him thinking he'd managed to bolt the door. Clearly not…

The officer coughed awkwardly, seeming tentative as he spoke. Gordon didn't blame him. He didn't exactly have a hospitable reputation.

"I didn't want to bother you up here, but they're looking for you," he began.

Gordon closed the stack of reports in his hands, giving the officer his full attention.

"What's the problem, son?"

"Congressman Gilly's wife has been calling. He hasn't made it home from the Wayne Foundation event."

Gordon remembered Gilly pawing after that poor maid earlier that evening. Maybe he'd found a slightly more co-operative playmate for the rest of the night?

"That's a job for the police?" he asked skeptically, an eyebrow-raising at the question.

"Sir," the Rookie began. "I've been a cop for a year, and I've only logged a half a dozen arrests. When you and Dent cleaned up the streets, you cleaned them up good." He shrugged. "Pretty soon, we'll be chasing down overdue library books."

Gordon chuckled, appreciating the young man's honesty. It was slightly refreshing.

"But here you are, Sir," the officer continued, gesturing to Gordon and his stack of files. "Like we're still at war."

"Old habits," Gordon replied simply, having had many a similar conversation with Barbara.

"Or instinct?"

Gordon could hear something in the Rookie's voice, something that seemed all too familiar. He was young, confident- and had a hungry look in his eyes. One, he remembered sharing when he had begun his first beat back in Chicago. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"What's your name, Son?" he asked curiously.

"Blake, Sir." The officer was simple with his answer.

Gordon put down the files altogether, giving the Rookie his full attention. "You have something you want to ask me, Officer Blake?"

Blake hesitated, pausing before he answered. He clearly was debating with himself. "It's that night," he began eagerly, having decided to ask. " _This_ night, eight years ago. The night Dent died."

"What about it?"

"The last confirmed sighting of the Batman," Blake continued, gaining enthusiasm with every passing second. He shook his head, almost as if questioning something. "He murders those people, takes out two S.W.A.T teams, breaks Dent's neck, and then just vanishes?"

"I'm not hearing a question, Son."

Gordon was apprehensive as to where this was going. Officially, Batman had been blamed for all the trouble back then, trouble that wasn't his fault. It seemed he would never be free of the damned night. First, it had been Barbara, and now Blake. Someone up there hated him.

Blake shifted uneasily. "Don't you want to know who he was?"

"I know _exactly_ who he was," Gordon sighed, walking towards the broken spotlight. He ran his hand over the mauled metal sadly. Once upon a time, this had been the beacon, the beacon that had projected hope into their lives, even on the darkest of nights. Now… it was broken. "He was Batman."

Blake seemed disappointed by the answer provided but said nothing more, instead just watching the Commissioner as he became lost in thought for a moment. Then, he returned.

"Come on, let's go see about the Congressman's wife."

Blake nodded, and with that, the two men disappeared back into the chaos of the offices below, ready to resume their duties, their conversation clearly forgotten.

* * *

She was late.

Crap.

She hated being late more than anything; especially to personal things like this. It wasn't every day that she got an invite to have lunch with her Dad. He was always so busy, and after the party last night things had been a little tense between them.

Barbara and her Dad always did this when they fell out, even when she was little. They would both act injured for a couple days till one of them realised it was pointless, and then they'd make up. She assumed that was what this lunch invitation was – her father's version of a peace offering. Well, if it wasn't she was going to use this well-timed opportunity to patch things up with him. She'd been hasty to say what she had. Her Dad didn't need her adding to the tremendous amount of crap he dealt with. It wasn't fair.

Frustratingly, her meeting earlier that morning over her latest case and assignment had overrun and had now made her approximately ten minutes late. It wasn't exactly a disaster but it didn't stop Barbara from walking that little bit faster.

The walk from her office to the GCPD headquarters was only a few minutes long and today with the sun shining brightly Barbara didn't actually mind the walk. She was dressed rather neatly in a dress and suit jacket but wished she had something slightly cooler on. Her office attire was a little stuffy for early autumn sunshine, particularly when speed walking.

As she walked her brown shoulder bag bounced against her thigh, weighing her down as she tried to push through the masses of Gothamites out and about today. She did love this about the city; with its constant energy and life. It was almost electric.

After a couple minutes of excusing herself through people and traffic, Barbara spotted the familiar faded brick building ahead of her. The warm sunlight reflected brightly off the numerous freshly washed windows that decorated the exterior almost blinding her.

The GCPD was practically her second home. The hours she had spent as a kid sitting in her Dad's office, eating doughnuts in the lounge and listening to cops as they discussed cases were probably in the thousands.

She hurried through the glass entrance and smiled briefly at the receptionist as she went. She'd been here enough over the years to know everyone by name. It was just a side effect of being the commissioner's kid. Everyone knew her and she knew everyone.

Barbara calmly walked towards her father's office and narrowly dodged past a couple of running people, one juggling coffee and the other was balancing a stack of files in their arms. Barbara pressed herself against the nearby door and slid past them into the main hallway.

The air rang with telephone calls and loud voices, making the main room a hub of energy. Ever since Barbara had first come to the police headquarters as a kid she had loved the feeling she got, darting through the energetic atmosphere. The open floor was always full of people and it made her feel like a part of something. She guessed that was part of what attracted her father to his job as Commissioner.

Barbara turned down another door and proceeded past the kitchen. She really did know this place all too well. A warm smell of coffee and cleaning fluid hit her senses and she heard the chatter coming from the small room. It was muddled with the sound of the news blaring loudly from the television precariously hanging from the wall.

The TV had been brought several years ago by one of the sergeants after complaining about the long work shifts and boring overtime hauls. Ever since then everyone had chipped in and had purchased the dodgy TV. Everyone communed around it now and then to watch events and get a small break from the stress. Barbara waved at a couple officers as she made her way past.

A second later she reached it; the finely polished wooden door with her Dad's name hanging on it. She knocked once and waited.

No answer.

She paused. Hmmm…

She opened the door slowly and peered inside the office. To her surprise, her Dad was nowhere to be seen. _Typical…_

She sighed and stepped in further, letting her feet tread on the worn down carpet. The room itself wasn't all that fancy, despite the prestigious title the user bore. That was her Dad though. He was about work and simplicity. Decoration and everything else was just a hindrance in his eyes. Shame. Being the commissioner tended to mean a lot of decoration was involved.

She wasn't surprised to see his desk overflowing with paperwork and files. Her Dad was also not the most organised of men. After running from the party last night she'd thought he may have actually managed to get some of this cleared. Clearly not…

"Can I help you miss?"

Barbara almost jumped, startled by the voice behind her. She turned around and looked at the man standing in the open doorway, arms crossed across his chest. She'd forgotten she'd left the door open. Anyway… No one ever called her 'Miss'. It was weird to hear it, especially from an officer in blue.

As she looked at him she realised, to her surprise, that she didn't recognise him. That was a first. _He must be new_ Barbara thought quickly. It would explain a lot. Like how he didn't know her, for example.

Barbara just smiled a little sheepishly at the young uniformed officer that stood before her. This was awkward. He probably thought she was some journalist snooping around in here. She stepped back from the desk and towards him.

"Uh, yeah. I- I'm here for the Commissioner," Barbara began slightly formally. "I was supposed to meet him a couple minutes ago. I was running a bit late."

"Well, the Commissioner went out a little while ago Downtown, on urgent business. He should be back pretty soon," The officer replied in a cool, yet slightly clipped tone. It was clear by his raised eyebrow he was suspicious of her.

She tried not to laugh. He almost reminded her of her Dad, whenever he caught her doing something wrong. He had the exact same expression, right down to the furrowed brow.

"Ok. Fine. I can just wait for him to get back. I don't mind waiting."

The officer paused, hardly considering her response. "Well, the reception is just out here," he began, gesturing behind him. "I'm sure you'll be much more comfortable."

Barbara smirked. He clearly wasn't asking her. He was telling her.

"You're new here aren't you officer-" She paused, eyeing his name tag a moment. "Blake?"

He paused, itching his neck awkwardly. It was clear he hadn't been expecting this. It was also clear that she was really starting to un-nerve him with her smug grin and confidence. Most people caught in her position would probably be begging for mercy.

"What's that got to do with anything?" he asked interestedly. He seemed suddenly self-conscious.

"Nothing," she replied smoothly, walking towards him. "Nothing at all…"

As she slid past him, she took a second to properly look at this officer Blake. She saw that he was a husky young man with short, neatly cropped dark brown hair. He seemed shockingly young and fresh-faced compared to many of the other cops around here, but then again he was new. He'd soon look as exhausted as the others. That was what Gotham did to you.

As Barbara walked past she could practically feel his eyes boring into her back. She heard him open his mouth to say something, but she never found out what. For, it was at that instance she heard another voice call down the hallway loudly over the buzz of the offices.

"Barbara? What the heck are ya doing here kid? Thought you had better things to do than hang out with us old goons."

Barbara looked up instantly and smiled at the officer that was headed towards her. It wasn't exactly hard to recognise Detective Harvey Bullock.

Firstly, there was his signature worn, old, brown suit jacket that was obviously a few sizes too small, that Harvey seemed to wear continually. Secondly there was the matter of his large, cuddly frame which everyone knew was a result of the doughnuts he was seen with; and finally, there was the scuffed up trilby hat perched off the top of his greasy head. His 'badge of honour' as he called it.

He'd always been one of her Dad's closest friends and partners - The two of them went way back together. Therefore, he was something of an uncle to Barbara. Especially what with her mother leaving for Cleveland; Harvey had been a rock during those early months after the move. Barbara couldn't always be around her Dad on his never-ending shifts, but it had been a huge relief to know Harvey was there keeping an eye on him.

Harvey quickly caught up to them, bulldozing his way down the busy corridor and proceeding to wrap Barbara in a large and warm hug.

"Harvey! It's good to see you. I'm here for lunch," she breathed in answer to his statement whilst wincing at the man's tight grip. "Although the Commissioner seems to be running a little late. Again."

"Yeah. He got called off on some tip or something," Harvey mused playfully as he released her. Barbara sighed. She knew it.

"Excuse me-"

They turned.

Barbara had almost forgotten about Officer Blake. Seemed Harvey hadn't exactly noticed him either.

Harvey looked past her at the slightly surprised officer stood watching the scene. This probably looked weird to him.

Barbara grinned.

"You know her, Sir?" Officer Blake quizzed, looking at Harvey.

"Know her? You're damn right I do, son." Harvey flashed her a proud grin as he patted her shoulder. Blake froze, looking a little awkward. "She's the one and only Barbara Gordon, the only girl in the world I know with an IQ higher than Einstein," he teased, causing Barbara to shake her head and laugh.

"Harvey," she smirked. "That's a slight exaggeration-"

Harvey paused, coughing slightly and scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "I uh … see ya met officer … Blake, was it?" His eyes rested on the officer's name badge.

Blake stiffened, standing a little taller at the mention of his name.

"Yep. He and I were just getting to know each other," Barbara replied quickly, trying to save this 'Blake' any trouble.

"Ah well, better not get too friendly Rookie, else the Commissioner is gonna have your ass shot." Harvey elbowed Blake's ribs slightly too hard and smirked as the Rookie winced.

"Harvey," Barbara quipped smoothly, crossing her arms with a smug smile. "Play nice."

"Just looking out for ya kiddo. You're the daughter of the Commissioner, and you also happen to be my goddaughter – it's my duty," he laughed, stepping back. He glanced down at his wrist, examining the watch that was strapped there. He cursed. "Damn! Well, I'd better get a move on. I'm late. Take care of ya-self kid."

"Will do," she agreed, watching as the detective dashed off into the hectic office.

There was silence for about a second. Barbara felt the tension in the air as the situation returned back to a moment ago, before Harvey's timely interruption. She heard Officer Blake cough once awkwardly and watched as he turned slightly red in the face. Well, so much for introductions then…

"I… um… I'm sorry Miss Gordon, I didn't know-" he began hastily.

Barbara laughed softly, shaking her head. She reached forward, extending a hand towards him.

"Don't worry about it," she soothed instantly before the Rookie suffered anymore awkwardness. "Call me Barbara. Everyone here already does."

Blake took her hand gratefully and shook it, glad for the pardon. "Well, Barbara, it's nice to officially meet you. Your father's a great man."

"Don't I know it?" she smiled back, more than used to those words. She glanced around them. "Any clue where he is though?"

It was Blake's turn to smile. "Running down a lead on the missing Congressman," he replied, releasing her hand from his.

Barbara sighed. This was so her father, maybe he hadn't forgiven her yet then. Not if he couldn't even call to cancel lunch.

"Right," she mumbled. "There goes lunch then."

Blake looked at her sympathetically. "I'm sure he would have called if he could-"

Barbara gave a gentle laugh, shaking her head and staring at him with mixed emotions. "Don't worry about it. Honestly. I'll just grab something on my way back to the office," she breathed awkwardly. She could see he didn't exactly know what to say. She didn't blame him. "How long you been here?" she asked slowly, trying to change the topic of conversation. Forget her Dad.

"Just about a year," he replied with a vague sense of pride.

"I haven't seen you around here before."

"I tend to be out on patrol," he continued. "I'm not usually around here."

"Where you headed now?" Barbara asked curiously, noticing the way that Blake kept looking towards the door. Clearly, his mind was elsewhere.

"St. Swithin's. It's a boys' home in lower Gotham," he began, a curious tone lacing his words. There was pain almost, in them. Barbara didn't miss the flicker of something in his eyes. If she didn't know better, she'd have said it was grief.

"I know the place," she breathed, giving him a small smile as she spoke. She did. She'd heard of the place over the years. It was sponsored by the Wayne Foundation – if she remembered rightly. Although she should probably say 'was'; Wayne Enterprises had been in a downward spiral for the last few years. Last she'd heard, the Wayne Foundation didn't have that much money. It was logical to assume funding wasn't exactly at its best. She'd even done some voluntary work over the summers at the boys' home, tutoring and helping around the place. The staff and kids were all lovely people, just unfortunate in life. "It's a good organisation. I've been there before."

"Oh?"

She didn't miss the genuine surprise in his voice, nor the way he perked up almost a little at the comment.

"Yeah," she repeated. "Why are you headed over there?"

Blake sighed heavily, his face clouding over. "One of the kids from there, Jimmy, was found dead this morning downtown. At the Sewage works of all places."

Barbara paused. "I'm sorry to hear that." The Sewage Plant? What was the kid doing there of all places?

"Yeah, I said I'd break the news to them. I just came by to ask someone a favour first."

Barbara nodded, resisting the urge to try and comfort the man further. Clearly, this was a personal task as well as a professional one. Perhaps Gotham hadn't changed as much as her father would have her believe. "Well, I won't keep you any longer – and I'm sorry, by the way about Jimmy."

"Thanks." Blake gave her a small smile, appreciating the effort. "I hope I'll see you around again, Miss Gordon."

"You too, Blake," she replied, giving him a small nod in return. They stared at each other for a moment, not sure how to proceed from here. Finally, Blake took a hesitant step forward, past her, and she did the same, in the opposite direction.

Barbara watched him go with a weird sense of curiosity. He was different – good different. He wasn't like everyone else, and it intrigued her. She had a feeling she'd be seeing him again soon.


	4. Chapter 3

_This bar is a real dive,_ Selina Kyle thought in disgust as she entered via the worn wooden door. A small chime rang out from the bell suspended above her, signaling her arrival into this hell hole.

The air was thick with the haze of tobacco smoke and other substances that filled her nose with a nauseating sensation. If she didn't have business here tonight, she'd never been seen in a gin mill such as this. It was simply below her.

Selina Kyle was well known in various circles throughout Gotham for her talents and expertise in her certain field. It was the reason they'd recruited her. Well… that and her past. The mere thought of which made her shiver. Yet, she didn't let it show as she strutted in confidently, shimmying across the rancid bar, dressed in her fine, slinky black garment. It hugged her figure tightly. Something about the colour black filled her with comfort. It was good for hiding flaws, and god knew she had enough of them. Her heels crunched on abandoned peanut shells, littering the floor.

Selina was accompanied by a drunk in a vivid Hawaiian shirt. If she could have abandoned him before now, she would have. But she was smart. It always helped to have a trick up your sleeve.

Barely able to stand for himself, the drunk hung off of her. She swatted away his sweaty paws and deposited him on one of the nearby bar stools without much more a thought.

"You brought a date?" came the indignant, yet snide comment across the room.

Selina turned, her eyes instantly piercing the man who'd made the comment, with a look of pure loathing as she strode towards him.

Philip Stryver; A weasel if ever there was one. Like her, he stood out like a sore thumb in the establishment. His three piece suit and waxy shaven face were the clues that he wasn't like the ruffians and thugs that frequented here. Nevertheless, despite his look, Selina knew better than to judge him. His reputation proceeded him.

He was a ruthless man, with the power to do as he liked, the same as a lot of men in Gotham these days. She knew better than to underestimate him. Otherwise, she'd be dead before she even knew it, and there'd be not a trace of her left behind.

"I like having someone to open doors for me," she purred back, sauntering over to him, watching as he gave the drunk at the bar a disapproving glance. She glanced around, scoping out the scene around her. No surprise hired muscle was dotted all around the bar, not so inconspicuously. They weren't even pretending not to be watching her. She didn't know whether to be insulted or not. None the less, she opened her purse and handed the unmarked envelope from inside to Stryver. "Right hand, no partials."

Not taking her word for it, Stryver removed the acetate from inside, examining it skeptically. His eyes took in the four clear prints and nodded at Selina.

She sighed a little in relief. So far so good.

"Very nice," he pronounced, pocketing the envelope.

"Not so fast handsome," Selina cut in, remaining calm. Now came the difficult part. "Don't you have something for me?"

A smirk lightened his usually phlegmatic expression, which only worried Selina further. "Oh, Yes."

He signaled one of his many men, who reached over and bolted the door. Another bruiser joined them at the table, a gun bulging beneath his cheap sports jacket. He glowered at her in an obvious attempt at intimidation. Again, she wasn't impressed or surprised. How predictable.

"I don't know what you're going to do with Wayne's prints," she began smoothly, remaining calm despite the turn in events. "But I'm guessing you'll need his thumb?"

Stryver just blinked in surprise. He reached into his jacket and looked flummoxed. His expression was just priceless.

"You don't count so well, huh?"

"I count fine," he snarled. With that he nodded to the man nearest them, who turned, pressing the gun to the side of her temple. "In fact, I'm counting to ten right now."

Selina glared at the man across the table. It wasn't as if this was a new idea. She'd expected it. She just had to remain in control. No one here would help her, so it was up to her, as always. Chivalry was dead in Gotham.

"Okay, Okay." She reached for her purse slowly but was blocked by the thug, who decided it was he who should remove her phone himself. He paused and slid it across the table to the boss. "My friend is waiting outside," she promised feebly. "Just hit 'send'."

Stryver toyed with the phone skeptically, before finally doing as she instructed. That was when they then sat in silence for a moment, waiting till there was a brief knock at the door. Needless to say, the man nearest peered out, before unbolting the door and admitting the petite blonde who'd been stood waiting. Her eyes lit up at the sight of Selina as she approached, not letting the men around her phase her. She scampered over and pulled out an envelope. A tense hush fell across the room, as all eyes lay with her.

"Place is a little dead," she breathed, glancing around.

"Trust me, it'll liven up in a minute," Selina promised

"Everything ok?" the girl asked, suddenly detecting the tension in the room.

Selina would have been touched, but she was more concerned with the men, and their weapons, that were currently more important. "Great," she lied with ease, dismissing her with a brief nod. "See you at home."

With that, the girl turned and left. Luckily, Stryver let her. Maybe he had a thing for blonds? Who knew. Still, Selina was relieved. Nearly there.

Taking the envelope for himself, Stryver began to examine the second sheet of prints. Needless to say, he was satisfied with the result. "It would have been a lot easier," she pointed out. "To just give me what we agreed on."

He shook his head. "We can't have any lose ends." He smirked smugly. "And, even in that dress, no one is going to miss you."

"No," she agreed. "But, my friend over there?" She cocked her head towards the drunk, still slumped at the bar. "Every cop in the city's missing him."

As if on cue, a news update flashed across the excuse of a TV hanging on the wall. A headline scrolled along the screen beneath the sight of a campaign shot, reading: "Manhunt for missing Congressman."

Stryver's startled gaze glanced between the drunk and the TV, before resting back on her again. "Cute," he sniped, recovering quickly. "But they're not going to be looking for him in a place like this."

"I don't know," she countered smugly, feeling the pieces fall into place, just as she'd planned. "You did just use his cellphone."

Stryver stared in horror down at the phone in his hand. It was too late. At that moment, it appeared as if the entire G.C.P.D. had arrived, proceeded by the whir of sirens, and the sound of chopper blades rotating. Flashing lights filled the windows, and Stryver knew he was trapped.

Brakes squealed.

Boots pounded on the ground.

Stryver faced the window, clearly lost.

That was when Selina struck.

* * *

Blake chased after the SWAT guys anxiously, feeling the energy in the air. He didn't really understand what was happening. He'd been back at the station moments ago, when the call had come through.

They'd found the Senator.

Everyone had been in a mad dash, bolting for their cars and leading the charge, even if Blake found it a little excessive. How many men did they need to reclaim one man? Clearly, the G.C.P.D. had less to do than he'd thought. Everyone just wanted in on the action, Blake included.

He hurried down the alleyway ahead, ready to enter the dive bar, when he was intercepted by a woman in a black dress, who was charging at him, terror written across her face. "Help! There's a man in there. He's bleeding!" she gushed, glancing back at the bar.

"It's ok, Miss," he responded instantly, trying to lead the woman away from the scene. "It's ok."

He took the woman's arm, and left her in the care of another officer, back by his cruiser. As he turned, gun drawn, he didn't even notice her escape into the night.

He bolted back into the bar, eyes taking the scene in slowly. As he glanced down, it was then he saw the man on the floor, moaning drunkenly. Blake was about to look past him, when he finally recognised him, beneath the grime and sweat.

"Help me," he whimpered.

"I've got him," Blake reported hurriedly, into the radio on his shoulder, bending down to give the man a once over. "Bullet to the leg, but he's ok."

That had been easier than he'd thought.

* * *

Congressman Gilly had been safely returned to the hands of the paramedics, leaving Blake free from his duties regarding the man. Thank heavens. Despite his ordeal, the man was a few coins short of being humbled. Instead, the drunken senator had kept on about some woman? Blake sighed, hurrying back down the alleyway, spotting the gathering of men around what appeared to be a man hole.

Deputy Commissioner Foley stood at the helm of the crowd, glancing at his watch anxiously. "Where's the DWP guy?" he snapped angrily, shaking his head.

Blake stared down at the ground, and gulped as it fell into place. "They went down there?"

"Yep, and Gordon took SWAT in after him," Foley sighed.

* * *

Barbara paused, chewing her nail anxiously as she waited, hearing the phone ringing out.

"Come on, Dad," she groaned, willing him to pick up. This was getting ridiculous now.

After the failed lunch date earlier, Barbara had returned back to her office to continue with her work. She had had a ridiculous amount of work left to do on her final paper, and the fact the deadline was less than a week away didn't help. She'd left a voice message for her Dad, asking to call her back. Needless to say, he hadn't.

Now though, hours later, having returned home, ordered dinner and watched her way through Netflix, Barbara had become agitated.

Her father still hadn't rung her back.

She'd texted him and called. She could only assume whatever was happening was important.

After a second she heard the shrill beep that made her heart sink: His answering machine: again.

"This is Gordon. Leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

"Hi, Dad," she began icily, shaking her head as she spoke. "It's me, Babs - your daughter- again. It's late and I just want to know you're ok. I'm sorry about what happened last night with the whole speech thing... You were right. I don't get it. I don't think I ever will, but I trust you. You know more about this city and what's best for it... So I trust your judgement; if you make a call... I'll always support you," she began, pinching the bridge of her nose and rising from her seat. "That's my job. I love you and I want you to know I'm sorry..." She took a deep breath. "So, I'm guessing the reason you aren't answering is because you're busy with whatever lead kept you from our lunch date. But I'd like a call... To know you're ok... I'm probably going to hit the hay anyway... It's late... But I love you. Ok? Bye."

She hung up and sighed, cursing privately to herself. This wasn't like her Dad. Something just felt... off, but what? She didn't know. Part of her wanted to race back over to G.C.P.D. headquarters and demand an explanation for his mysterious absence, but she knew better than that. If he hadn't called her back by the morning, then she'd go over there, she concluded. He'd probably call by then... Right?

She decided to stop thinking about it. Instead, she grabbed the remote, turning off the TV, and headed to the front door. She checked it was locked, and set the alarm before heading back towards her room.

As she opened the door, she put the phone down on the polished oak wood desk beside her, which was overflowing with papers and general work junk. She flicked on the lights and looked around weakly at her modest room. It was still in the state she'd left it in this morning: books everywhere, random socks stuck out of drawers and her bed wasn't made. Usually, she was rather good at keeping order in here. However, after last night, it hadn't been her first priority. Or her second... Or her last... It wasn't even a priority again tonight.

She was too tired to think about anything right now. So, instead, she opted for sliding into the pair of crumpled up pyjamas lying across the bottom of her bed and hurling her current clothes in the 'to be washed' pile. She ran a brush lazily through her hair and disappeared into the bathroom, before emerging a moment later. She proceeded to then hurl herself into her bed, turning off the lights via the switch next to her, and curl up letting sleep take her.

* * *

A cross the other side of the city, a fireball erupted from the now open shaft. Blake, and the other cops surrounding it, jumped back to avoid being scorched by the blast of heat from below. Startled shouts and curses erupted from their lips.

"Come on!" Blake gasped, realising with some horror that Gordon was still down below. "We gotta get down there!"

The cop nearest him scoffed, wiping his brow. "That was a gas explosion kid."

"Gas?" Blake stared in shock. Really? That was what they thought? "But that's a sewer."

As if on cue, Foley stepped up, taking control of the scene. "No one goes down till we know what's down there!". His order seemed clear, as he stared at the officers around him. No one seemed to argue.

"But we know what's down there, Sir! The police Commissioner!"

Foley shot Blake a dirty look, obviously annoyed by the comment. Blake just glared back. "Somebody get the hothead out of here!" he snapped back, pointing to Blake. "And get me a DWP guy!"

Blake frowned, backing off. Clearly, he wasn't going to convince anyone here. There were thousands of miles beneath the city where Gordon could be. Was no one going to look for him? Suddenly, an idea hit him, and he knew what to do. He just hoped he was right about this, as he took off, heading back to his police cruiser.

* * *

The sewage treatment plant looked uglier by night. Blake pulled up to the gate, and flashed his badge at the puzzled security guard, who let him through. Ross was off duty, at home with wife and kids, but Blake was putting in some unpaid over-time. Playing a hunch, he parked his vehicle, and raced for the basin where Jimmy's body had washed up earlier.

This was a long shot, Blake knew, and he was already dreading finding Gordon's body in the same state as Jimmy's, but anything was better than standing around wondering if the Commissioner was still alive. He had to believe that Gordon had survived the underground explosion. Gotham still needed him.

Moonlight rippled atop the water that flowed beneath the metal grate. Bracing himself for the worst, Blake thought he spotted something that poked up briefly through the grille, before sinking back into the currents below; something pale, and groping for air. Fingers?

He ran forward and thrust his hand down into the basin. He groped frantically until –his heart pounding – he caught hold of what felt like another man's wrist.

Yes! It was Gordon.

Straining, he tugged the Commissioner up through an opening in the grille, and hauled him out onto the concrete. His breathing ragged, the Commissioner looked barely alive. His face was grey, and his glasses were missing. Dripping clothes were soaked with blood and water. Crimson swirls streaked the puddle that had begun pooling beneath his trembling body. Blake could tell immediately, Gordon had been shot more than once. He shouted anxiously for help.

"Man down!"

Then he realised the Commissioner was trying to speak. "Bane," he growled softly, almost warning the cop. "Underneath Gotham, warn Gotham, warn…"

Blake struggled to hear what the man was saying, so leant closer. The Commissioner was alive, but even he couldn't help but wonder for how long.

* * *

Barbara rolled over in bed weakly. She was _not_ a morning person. All she wanted was to sleep. God, she was tired. She needed a break. It was all those late nights in the office. She knew they'd catch up on her eventually, especially with everything this week.

Barbara's head pounded and she felt her numb limbs beginning to awaken slowly. She was now officially awake.

Instantly her eyes flicked to the small- and rather battered- alarm clock beside her bed and paused in surprise. 9 am? It was Saturday, her day off. She should still be asleep. So then, why wasn't she?

The answer hit her as a shrill buzzing greeted her ears again. The doorbell.

She cursed silently and sat up, running a hand through her bed head. She must look appalling. It was her red hair that did it. It had always had a mind of its own, meaning she had been cursed to suffer notoriously bad hair days. Ugh.

Who even was it? Probably some neighbour, come to complain about something. Or maybe her Dad had forgotten his keys again? Whatever it was, she didn't want to get out of bed.

However, the buzzing continued.

 _Fine!_ She thought. _I'm coming!_

She shook her head slowly, yawning as she stretched out. The clicking sound was rather unhealthy.

Goodness… She hesitantly peeled back the bed sheets and winced at the cold. She stumbled forward, out of bed and grabbed a dressing gown to cover her t-shirt and shorts. Last thing she needed was someone to see her faded Gotham university PJs. They were the comfiest thing she owned.

Another shrill buzz. Whoever it was seemed unusually eager. _Great._

"I'm coming!" she called loudly to the anonymous person. She tried to bite back her irritation. At last, she managed to shuffle to the door and unlock it. She pulled the chain back, and let the door drift ajar.

A light chilly breeze drifted inside the home and she shivered, pulling her dressing gown tighter round herself. It was a bright day, with the sun shining strongly despite the time. The light made Barbara wince, taking a moment to adjust as she stepped outside.

What she didn't expect to see, as her eyes finally stopped stinging, was the young officer who stood there waiting nervously on her front porch. It was the one from yesterday - the one in her Dad's office. What was his name again? She racked her brain hastily. Oh! Blake.

"Uh… Officer Blake?" she managed in surprise, trying to compose herself. "What… what can I do for you?"

"Hello, Miss Gordon," he began, looking up at the sound of her voice. His eyes drifted towards her and he frowned slightly; he was obviously caught off guard by her appearance due to the way his eyes suddenly drifted sideways.

Barbara blushed instantly, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. She tightened her dressing gown a little more in the hopes of saving her modesty.

"Did… did I wake you?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah…" she whispered slowly, running a hand through her hair. "Officer Blake? What are you doing here? My father isn't home, if that's what you wanted-"

She was still unsure why the officer was stood on her doorstep this early.

"No," he stammered. "it's uh… it's you I wanted to see. I have something I need to tell you."

"Ok?" She was beginning to become scared by his vague, yet serious tone. She stepped forward.

"I have the car outside – I uh… you need to come with me."

"Am I under arrest?" she laughed shakily, trying to ease the tension.

"No. NO! Nothing like that," he panicked. "I … it's your father-"

"Wait a second," she demanded, her anxious tone betraying her sudden surge of panic. "What actually is going on?"

Blake paused unsure of what to say. "It's the Commissioner… he's been shot."

"What?" Barbara gasped instantly. "How did this happen?"

"I'm not sure if I'm at liberty to say," he answered softly. "But he's at Gotham General. I uh… thought I should be the one to tell you. I can uh… give you a lift…"

Barbara shook her head. Typical. She suddenly felt sick. Her father… what…. Was he ok?

"Can you uh… Give … Give me a … A minute to change?" she answered back quietly, trying to get her thoughts coherent enough to make a plan. Blake nodded in response.

"Take your time."

As Barbara stepped back and closed the door she felt herself shaking. A sudden terror had gripped her.

This was her Dad. He was all she had. If anything happened to him… _Stop it Barbara!_ She snapped silently. Thinking like that wouldn't help anybody.

Instead, she dashed back across the hall and disappeared into her room. She paused, grabbing a clean shirt and dressing herself as she went. She didn't have time for a major make over, so elected for brushing her hair and teeth, and pulling on her jeans that lay on her floor.

When she was done she appeared again, red faced from running around. She went straight to the door and opened it again. Blake hadn't moved an inch.

"I'll just grab my coat," she whispered running to the corner of the room and retrieving it. Barbara felt herself begin to be consumed with a sort of panic. "Ready," she snapped speedily. "Let's go."

Blake turned, taking her bag for her and leading her towards the car already waiting for them. Blake smiled weakly opening the door for her, allowing her to slide in first.

"After you," he breathed calmly.

 _He's just like every other officer_ Barbara thought, s _o proper around the Commissioner's daughter._ It would have been quite funny had it not been for the situation.

"Thank you," she replied smoothly. She dipped inside and looked back at the house a moment.

Blake looked at her gently. He could see how upset she was, it was to be expected. It was her Dad after all. He'd always heard how infamously close the two of them were. He wished he had some way to make it easier for her.

"If it uh… helps Miss Gordon-" he began.

"Barbara," she interrupted suddenly. "Call me Barbara."

She didn't know why she said it. Maybe it was an old habit from correcting officer's over the years.

"Ok, Barbara," he continued. The word felt right in his mouth. Barbara… it was a nice name. It suited her. "I spoke to your father's Doctors. They said he'll be ok; they said he should pull through without any major damage."

Barbara felt a small relief at his words. At least her Dad would be ok. She needed to stop panicking.

"That's good. Thank you," she whispered.

She wondered what he thought of her. She must seem like a wreck. She stared forward, tapping her fingers against the dashboard as Blake finally pulled off.

They sped down the road, winding through traffic as they went, and soon enough- (although not soon enough for Barbara's liking)- they pulled up outside Gotham general hospital. The car had barely even stopped when Barbara opened her door and leapt out, narrowly avoiding an incoming ambulance.

Blake hastily parked the car and hurried after her.

"Barbara!" he yelled in surprise. Last thing he needed was her getting hit by an ambulance.

She continued pushing the doors open and sped to the front desk. The foyer was unusually busy today. Children were crying and someone was yelling loudly about the wait time for coffee.

Barbara ignored them all and looked down at the nurse behind the desk. She seemed about her age, with alarming pink nails and she was chewing a large piece of bubble gum.

"I'm here for Commissioner Gordon," Barbara barked. "Do you know what room he's in?"

The woman yelped in surprise nearly dropping the magazine she had clutched in her hands. She obviously hadn't been expecting anybody.

It was then that Blake suddenly re-appeared beside Barbara, panting from his excursion.

"Room 221," she explained slowly, flashing a look at the records on her computer screen.

"Thank you," he nodded.

Both Barbara and Blake hurried along the hallway, and clambered inside an empty lift. Blake hit the button and they stood in an awkward silence, filled with only the sound of lift music and Barbara's pounding heart.

Her insides squirmed and she chewed her nails desperately, in a desperate attempt to quell her rising fear. She'd always known a day like this one would come.

"Barbara," Blake began, his voice oddly soothing despite the situation. It was clear he was trying to remain calm for her sake. "It'll be ok. I promise."

She barely glanced at him but nodded in acknowledgement. "I hope so. He's all I have."

Her voice sounded so small and desperate as she felt reality weighing on her shoulders.

"He's been in surgery this afternoon," Blake continued. "He's gonna make a full recovery."

Despite him saying it, it still felt like lies.

"Thank you," Barbara managed agitatedly. She needed to see him with her own eyes, then -and only then - would she be able to breathe again.

"I also think your mother's been called."

Barbara finally looked at him. She automatically groaned. "Really?"

"That a bad thing?" Blake scoffed, raising an eyebrow.

"You've obviously never met my mother," Barbara joked in explanation.

Blake didn't know quite how to respond, but couldn't hide the smile on his face. Finally, the doors opened with a ping, and they sped down the corridor hastily.

Barbara watched the door numbers whistle past until her eyes spotted the one she was after. It wasn't exactly hard to spot – the amount of cops around should have been the first clue.

Barbara hurried inside.

"Dad!" she exclaimed.

The sight she was greeted with immediately overwhelmed her with relief to see him alive and well… to an extent. Not that you could exactly call being hooked up to that many wires alive.

At the sound of her voice, the Commissioner had looked up, a weak smile plastered to his weary face.

If anyone had ever thought the Commissioner looked old, they were proven right, more so in that second than ever before.

Barbara just wrapped herself in his arms, and took a deep breath. He was here. He was alive. It was ok. She kept repeating the mantra to herself as she closed her eyes, holding him close, all previous anger gone. Their fight didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was her father, her family, and that she still hadn't lost him.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered to him. Her voice trembled dangerously. "About before-"

Her father just shook his head weakly, planting a gentle kiss to her's. "Don't be. I love you, hon. That's all that's important right now. That, and I'm here. I'm ok."

Barbara nodded back, feeling tears of relief in her eyes. Once more, Gotham had nearly taken something from her. But it had failed, thank heavens. She pulled back, wiping her eyes on her sleeve feebly, saying the only thing she could at that moment.

"I love you too, Dad. I really do."


	5. Chapter 4

_**Hi guys. Thanks as always for reading this. I'd love to hear from you guys to let me know what you think - if you like it, love it or have any opinions at all XD Sorry for the shorter chapter this time! Life's been running away from me at the moment as I'm basically working six days a week this summer to earn money for my next year of university. I promise a longer update next time x All the best as ever, Thesilentmage**_

* * *

Hospitals. They were horrid places, so clinical and clean. They made Barbara shiver, which was weird. She wasn't usually affected by most things, and it wasn't like she hadn't spent enough time here over the years. She'd always been an adventurous kid, climbing trees, wrestling and running. It was no wonder she'd spent many afternoons here being fixed up for some scrape or whatever. Her Dad had always joked they needed to invest in a loyalty card, the amount they were in and out of that place.

Her Dad had always been the one to come see her on those days, despite his busy schedule. They both agreed it was better he came, rather than Barbara's mother. As much as she loved the woman, Barbara couldn't stand the hysteria, and maternal panic, her mother was so renowned for displaying. She, and the Doctors, really didn't need that. Hence, her hospital visits had become her father's problem.

She also hated though, the feeling of helplessness that hospitals brought. Sitting there, holding the hand of her father as he rested, she could feel it brewing in her stomach, making her feel nauseous. She could do nothing for him, but wait, and watch. Luckily, he was on enough pain medication that he wouldn't be able to feel any pain, and she took small comfort from it.

Ever since she'd arrived at the hospital she had spent every waking second watching him. Despite the number of Cops and Detectives swarming around them, and their room, Barbara didn't move; she and her father were their own universe. Everything seemed to swarm around them.

The only other people in their room had been cops, slinking in and out as the day progressed. Thankfully, they did nothing more than see if her father was conscious yet and check on her. All it took was a convincing yes, and Barbara could dismiss them from their presence.

One cop that had been in and out all day had been Blake. Every time, he'd come bearing some gift – coffee, cake, and stood calmly in the corner. Barbara appreciated the gesture, finding it surprisingly comforting, more so than when everyone else had been in. She smiled. Then again, none of them had brought banana nut muffins.

Regardless, Barbara, if she'd had a say, would have spent all night beside her father in that dimly lit hospital room. A new feeling of protectiveness swelled inside her and she suddenly seemed more suspicious of everyone around her. This was their fault; if they'd taken more care of him then her father wouldn't be here, lying in bed, attached to numerous tubes and monitors. It made her ill. Her mother had always said something like this would happen - Luckily though, Barbara was here. If she'd gone with her mother her father would be here, alone. She'd never wish for that. Ever.

Every beep from the heart monitor made her shudder. She watched the constantly moving green line and bit her fingernails; An old habit. Even as a child she'd done this.

She groaned, rubbing a hand down her face. She was just tired and stressed. She knew she couldn't blame anybody for this. It had been an accident. That was all. He was safe now, though, and he'd be ok. That was enough.

However, it was a few hours later that she watched her father fall asleep. She was relieved. He needed rest. She was all set to stay there, watching, until finally, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned sharply, suddenly startled.

It was only Foley. He looked exhausted.

"Miss Gordon," he began softly.

Barbara stared sleepily at the man before her. "W…what?… Foley?" She began. She desperately needed another coffee. Or sleep, considering the interruption she'd suffered earlier of her lie in. On reflection, both would be nice…

"Miss Gordon. I uh… really think you should go home. Get some sleep." He seemed gentle in his tone, kind almost. Nearly all police officers were. They knew who she was and she had known most of them her whole life. They were kinda like a second family.

Barbara, however, didn't feel like going anywhere. She was perfectly happy to stay where she was. "I'm fine. I should stay a while… keep an eye on him."

"Don't worry. We'll keep an eye on him while you're gone, Miss Gordon," he soothed, slowly prying her from the worn plastic seat.

She frowned back. "No offence but, if you'd kept an eye on him we wouldn't be in this mess," she mumbled back, feeling her emotions surge. She could see he wasn't expecting her to be so defensive by the way his eyebrow raised a fraction, but she was. What could she say? She was too stressed to keep herself in check.

"If you want, I can take you," Blake suddenly piped up, entering the room again.

Barbara and Foley looked across the room. Neither seemed to have noticed Blake had been there, which was only further proof of her weariness, Barbara thought to herself. Damn it. Foley was right. She needed a break.

"I've got the car around front. I could drive Miss Gordon home."

Barbara looked at him, and her face softened at the offer. He'd already done enough today. Besides, she'd heard about what had actually happened from a couple of guards. She'd heard the story of the shoot-out, and Blake's heroic rescue. He'd been the one to find her father. For that, she owed him.

"I uh… r… shouldn't I-?"

"He'll be fine," Blake offered, looking past Foley to her, and nodding in reassurance. His gaze flickered to her father, and she saw the concern etched there. "Honestly. I'll run you home then come back and check on him. Promise."

Barbara didn't doubt his words. She sighed softly and grabbed her coat from her chair, nodding weakly as she did. "Fine. Thank you."

Foley nodded at them both and stood aside to let them past. He seemed relieved to see them go. Maybe he wanted time alone. That was her guess. It'd been a long day.

Within a moment the two sleepy people were slowly traipsing down the quiet, whitewashed corridors. Neither said anything for a while as they walked. All that could be heard was their footsteps on the flooring, echoing around them. Barbara just didn't know what to say. Thank you? That'd be a good start, she thought silently. But how did you thank someone for doing something like this? Saving her Dad wasn't something she took lightly.

However, as they re-approached the elevator at the end of the hall, Barbara looked at Blake, finally deciding to be the one to break the silence.

"Thanks for offering me a lift. I appreciate it, and what you did - for my Dad."

Wow. Ok. At least she'd said it, if not as skilfully as she'd liked. She cringed internally.

Blake shrugged calmly, pressing the button to call the elevator. "Don't worry about it. It's no trouble, and besides, your father's a good man. I did what any guy there would have done."

"But they didn't. You did," she added smoothly, not letting him brush off the praise.

Her head turned to the side, and she looked into his eyes. It was only brief, but she saw something surprising there.

Was that embarrassment? What? She hadn't expected that. She looked away a moment, startled.

Luckily the elevator arrived and a 'ping' interrupted any comment that may have been made in return. No one else was inside, and they stepped forward. As they stood, a weird silence hung in the air, filled only with the sound of the steel doors closing. This was so awkward.

"So, what exactly happened earlier?" Barbara asked slowly. "When I asked earlier, I didn't get an answer. Just that, my dad had been injured in some weird rescue mission?"

Blake paused, clearly taking her prompt, and thinking over his answer. "Ah… well… there was a raid this morning, it was to do with the missing senator," he began, scratching the back of his neck. "We tracked his cell-phone to a shop in run-down Gotham. There was a shoot-out, and some of the guys escaped down in the sewers. Your Dad followed them."

"Why didn't anyone else?" Barbara quizzed. She felt irritated. Now she understood why her mother was always complaining about her Dad's job.

"There was an explosion a few seconds later, we couldn't go down."

"You mean-"

"Yes. I wanted to go down but Foley, that idiot said no-"

"What then?" Barbara interrupted, before he got too off topic, blaming his boss.

"Then, I ran round to the outflow, knowing that you could follow the tunnels that way, and found him in the water."

Barbara sighed softly. Blake's eyes drifted to her and he seemed to want to say something. Instead, he put a hand on her arm. She stopped. His touch was warm through her coat, making her shiver.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry I didn't get there sooner," he began.

"Don't worry about it. You did everything you could," she soothed kindly, smiling at him.

When the doors opened she let out a small breath of relief. Thank god for that. They hurried across the foyer and out the revolving door up front.

It was bitterly cold that evening and Barbara was really craving her leather jacket, she could hardly feel her fingers. The coat she'd brought with her was ridiculously thin. God, what she'd give to be back in the warm. She looked back at the man beside her and groaned.

"How much further to your car?"

Blake merely smiled at her and took a pace forward across the concrete. "Over there," he answered gesturing at his cruiser. He removed the keys from his jacket pocket and proceeded to open her door for her. A real gentleman Barbara smirked silently.

Barbara chuckled. "Thank you, Sir."

"Very welcome M'Lady," he scoffed going round and getting in his own side. It was nice to see he had a playful side, as well as a brooding one. He reached for his belt and strapped himself in. "I don't suppose you're hungry? I could always swing past somewhere and grab you something," he offered slowly.

She shook her head. "Nah. Thanks. I'm ok, besides, I got stuff back at my place."

Blake took the answer and started the car. He didn't say anything else, merely pulling out the lot into the road.

Barbara sat there, toying over the events of the last day, trying to piece it together as best as she could with her tired mind. There was so much going on, and so many questions that needed answering. Listening to normal cops wasn't exactly a great way to gather information, nor understand everything.

She turned her head slowly, and she watched Blake as he drove, manoeuvring the vehicle downtown through the traffic. "Who is this Bane you were all talking about?" Barbara piped up smoothly, looking back out the window.

"I don't think you're meant to know about that," Blake suddenly laughed. It was clear he was glad for the topic change, considering the silence in the car. "How did you hear that name?"

"Maybe you should tell the loudmouths outside my Dad's hospital room. They weren't exactly subtle."

Blake paused as if debating what he should or even could say. "Bane is one of the bad guys. I suppose, now in Gotham, he'd be considered the bad guy."

"What's so bad about him?" she asked again, watching him as he drove.

It was curious. He had this look on his face of concentration, and yet amusement. His lip twitched a little when he spoke to her, yet his gaze remained firmly on the road ahead.

The purr of the engine was all that filled the car for a few moments.

"He's got some operation running down in the sewer tunnels under the city; he's employing boys that need work." Blake was being careful how he phrased this.

"So?"

"So, he's trouble."

Barbara nodded. "Ok. Bane equals trouble. Got it." She smirked at him playfully, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Good," he smiled back. "Glad you understand. Has anyone ever told you, you ask a lot of questions?"

"All the time. I'm a lawyer, remember? It's my job to gather facts," Barbara retorted playfully. "I'm even thinking of training to specialise as part of the D.A.'s investigator team."

"Well, for what it's worth, I have a feeling you'd be rather great at it."

There was a sincerity in Blake's tone that stunned Barbara for a moment. It was hard to believe she'd only known the man for such a short while. The way he acted around her was as if they'd known each other a hell of a lot longer.

It was nice.

"Thanks," she replied sincerely.

So, Bane, was it? He was the one responsible for this? Whatever all this even was yet… she mulled it over for the rest of the journey as they drove back to her home.

As she slid out of the vehicle, she thanked Blake again. Inside she had a feeling this would be normal for them. She'd already thanked him for so much. She didn't really know how to repay him.

As was his habit, he brushed it off with a smile, before driving back to the hospital, leaving her to it.

Barbara watched the cruiser disappear around the corner, and just turned, heading inside her home, desperate not to waste any time. The sooner she got back, the better.

It was a strange feeling, walking back into her home, after everything that had happened, since that morning. It didn't feel like it had only been one day. As she passed the clock and noticed the time, she felt disorientated. Hours had felt like mere minutes.

Barbara took a deep breath, heading through the house, depositing her coat and bag as she did.

The first thing Barbara did was take a well-earned shower. She needed it. Her mother had always said, after a bad day, you needed a shower. It would wash the day away. As much as her mother, and her, hadn't always seen eye to eye on everything, this was one policy they shared. Barbara hopped in the shower slowly, feeling the warm water running down her body, soothing the stress and exhaustion she had been brewing all day. It was almost therapeutic.

After that, she jumped out, and dried off, changing into fresh clothes, and heading to the kitchen. Muffins and coffee hadn't been enough to sustain herself, and her stomach craved something else. Hence, she grabbed some of the leftover takeout from the night before, out of the fridge, and began eating her way through it as she headed back to her room. No matter what people said, ramen could still taste as good a day later as it did the night before.

Although, as soon as she was sat on her bed, fed and clean, she felt her eyelids droop shut. She couldn't fight it, not after everything. So she surrendered herself to it, letting herself curl up in her bed.

She even managed to nod off, catching a couple hours sleep in her own bed, which was no mean feat. However, once she awoke a few hours later, she couldn't really get back off. She was too concerned about getting back to the hospital, and her Dad. Hence, she slowly stood, grabbing her belongings, and made her way to the garage below the building. She looked toward the beaten up vehicle that was theirs and slid inside.

The drive back to the hospital was quiet, and Barbara didn't say anything. She kept the radio off, and drove, pulling back to the hospital, and heading back upstairs to her father's room.

As she approached the door, she felt herself stopping, catching the sound of faint discussion through the ajar door.

Who was in there?

She stepped closer, yet couldn't make out who was talking. She could hear her father, wheezing weakly as he spoke. But the other voice… it was so deep, and hard to make out.

Barbara eased closer to the door, careful to make sure neither she nor her shadow would be visible inside. She pressed herself closer and listened to the conversation.

"The Batman wasn't needed anymore," the stranger breathed his voice heavy with a growl like quality to his words. "We won."

"Built on a lie," her father croaked in reply. "Our lie." He moaned weakly, clearly in distress, causing Barbara to tense. She was tempted to burst in but refrained. It didn't sound like there was any danger, and she was too absorbed with what was being said to want to stop it. "Now there's an evil rising from where we tried to bury it. Nobody will listen." Barbara squinted in the room through the crack in the door and watched her father's eyes as they seemed to plead with the stranger's. "The Batman must come back."

Barbara froze, as it fell into place. She did know that voice, she just hadn't heard in nearly eight years, not since that night… It was the Batman. He was here, now. Was he back?

"What if he doesn't exist anymore?" he replied. No, he had to, Barbara thought silently.

"He must," Gordon murmured almost echoing her thoughts, gasping for breath. "He must."

With that, there was the sound of movement, and Barbara watched the oddly dressed stranger leave. When it was safe, she straightened up and pushed the door open.

"You ok, Dad?" she breathed calmly.

Her father nodded, and he seemed to genuinely mean it. Barbara's heart fluttered, and she smiled back at him. "I'll be fine, we will all be fine."

Barbara prayed he wasn't wrong.


	6. Chapter 5

**_Hi guys! As always, thanks for reading this. It means a lot as that's the whole reason I write this - for your enjoyment. A couple of you have asked me this so I just wanted to answer that, yes I am spending some time focusing on the beginning parts of the story rather than just jumping to where Bane takes over. I wanted to spend some time establishing the characters and their relationships before I thrust them all together in that scenario. We will get there, I promise! There's also some surprises in store before then anyway. Hope you're all having a great day. Let me know what you're thinking and review or follow the story. Thesilentmage xxx_**

* * *

Ever since the meeting with the Batman, Barbara had to admit, things had been different. Whether or not for the better, she wasn't entirely sure. There was still the threat of whatever evil her father, and he'd, been discussing which her father was convinced was soon to consume them all. Barbara didn't know if he was right or not, but she wasn't ready to test the theory. For now, she was rather busy focusing on him, and his recovery, and her work.

After returning to the hospital last night, she'd stayed a while, keeping an eye on her father. It was harder than she expected not to bring up what she'd witnessed moments before, but she managed. She didn't feel it was right to pry, even if she had so many questions that needed answering. Besides, it wasn't as if her father was in any real condition to discuss the matter anyway.

None the less, she'd spent the day with him, and on and off the phone. There had been the not-so-small matter of her mother to deal with, as well as work, and Diane.

Her mother had been a challenge, claiming she needed to be there and would catch the next available flight to Gotham to join them. It took everything Barbara had to persuade her mother otherwise and to remain calm. As much as she loved her mother, she didn't need her here, causing more stress to deal with. She already had enough on her plate.

Diane, on the other hand, had been a much simpler story. Her friend had seemed relieved to hear from her and was concerned for Gordon. Barbara also assured her that her father was due to make a full recovery, whilst sharing what she'd learned about the whole thing. She left out the small matter of the Batman being here last night, not feeling it needed to be shared. Diane was surprised and worried about the news.

"So, this Bane guy… it was him in the sewers?" she breathed, sounding puzzled.

Barbara nodded slowly, glancing back over her shoulder to check no one was listening in to her conversation. She was stood outside, by the front entrance to the hospital, having needed some air and space away from that cramped room upstairs. It also meant she didn't have cops surrounding her, which was a mighty relief. That sea of blue had become almost too much for her. There was so much happening, and she needed the air to think.

"Yeah, it was him alright – according to my Dad, at least." She leaned back, resting herself against the faded brick building, and holding the phone closer to her ear as the sound of sirens filled the air, an ambulance speeding by. "What do you think it means?"

"Trouble." Diane sighed heavily, making Barbara do the same in response. So much for reassurance. "I think your Dad may be right about the whole problem. I think we have something coming for us."

"That was what I was afraid of." Barbara gulped. "Whoever this guy is, he's got Dad rattled. He's got men all over this case. I just wish I felt it was going to actually do some good."

"You don't think it will?" Diane batted back.

Barbara bit on the edge of her thumbnail anxiously again, scuffing her foot against the pavement in thought. "Something just seems different this time… I can't put my finger on it."

"I wish I had something useful to tell you," Diane replied, and Barbara was grateful for the sentiment. She opened her mouth to reply but was distracted by the sound of someone calling her name. She turned her head and spotted none other than Blake charging towards her.

"Barbara," he called, jogging casually across the pathway.

"Hang on, Di," she hastily breathed into the phone, lowering it from her ear, hearing Diane's excited questions down the line.

"Who's that? Was that a guy? Is he cute? Babs."

Barbara wanted to roll her eyes at the never ceasing energy Diane seemed to have. Seriously, even now? She was incorrigible. "Blake? What is it?" Barbara began, turning to face him, and standing herself off the wall, upright. His whole demeanour told her whatever it was he was coming to tell her, it wasn't good.

Was it her Dad? Bane?

"It's the stock market. It's under attack."

Barbara stopped, feeling her blood run cold. She hadn't expected that. She raised an eyebrow in surprise. The stock market? "What do you mean?"

"It was just taken over by armed hostiles. We received the report a moment ago." Blake seemed a little out of breath. Had he run all the way downstairs to tell her the news? No. By the way his hand was resting on his belt, fingers itching for his gun, she could tell he was on his way over there, ready for action.

Barbara had many questions but realised there wasn't any time for them now. He had to go, and she had just had an idea. "Thanks. You better go – be safe," she breathed with a brief smile.

Blake returned it, nodding once, then hurrying to his awaiting cruiser. "Always."

With that, Barbara finally held the phone back up, ignoring the torrent of questions she received. She told Diane she needed to go. Diane merely insisted that Barbara took the next day off so that she could handle their latest case project. As much as she didn't like handing off the reins, Barbara knew Diane was right, that she had actual real-life responsibilities to focus on, rather than ghosts to chase. However, remembering that was difficult when she had bigger concerns right now than finishing an assignment.

Her feet lead the way, as she bolted back inside the hospital to her father's room.

All this felt odd. Whatever was happening, it was just another piece of the puzzle. Barbara only wished she knew what the bigger picture was.

* * *

It was a small while before Barbara actually got any news regarding the exchange takeover. Everyone was in too busy a state of panic to tell her anything. The news too only had distant shots from outside the building. The whole time, her father kept muttering nervously, and Barbara realised, with some horror, he was as confused as she was.

This was it; the tipping point. Everything, all had been waiting on this moment. It was clear. She just knew it, and so did everyone else. It was why they were all so jumpy for news.

There was something in the air: Change, and she didn't like it.

It was a few hours later that the extent of it became clear. The cameras panned along the roads with the hostages, as men burst out of the building on bikes. It stayed with them as the fight ensued, and a figure emerged from the darkness, bringing with him a new dawn.

She stared at the screen, watching the masked figure as he rode through the night, cape billowing behind him.

Batman.

Barbara smiled. So, he'd done it. He really was back. Just in time too.

It was weird. She hadn't seen him in eight years, yet at that moment, she felt as if she were there, on that rooftop again. Dent, leering at her, his face charred and grotesque to look at, especially up close. She heard his laugh echo through her once more, a sound she had never been able to forget, and she felt the fall. She'd plummeted over that side. She'd believed she would die. Until he caught her. Batman.

Seemed Gotham had its caped crusader once more. Thank god.

Her private smile of relief was reflected on her father's face, as his hand took hers. He was thinking the same thing she was. There was hope after all.

* * *

Ok. This was stupid; beyond stupid. Of all the stupid things Barbara had ever done in her life- and there were quite a few – this had to top the list. What was she even thinking? Was this going to work? Maybe this had been a mistake. Sneaking past the cops at the hospital, and heading across town, she'd been confident this was a good plan. Yet now, standing there, she was having second thoughts.

She turned, looking out across the night sky of Gotham, admiring the view from up here. She could see why her Dad liked this spot, up on top of the GCPD head building. It was so peaceful, just her, and the sights and sound of the city around. It made everything seem so much simpler, to feel how small she was in comparison to the sheer scale of the city around her.

Her hand lay, resting against the side of the steel drum beside her. The once magnificent Bat-signal was now but a wreckage, broken by her own father. Yet, all it needed was a little tinkering and a little love, and now it was shining brightly once more. The 'bat' wasn't so clear, but she was hoping it was enough; enough to call him out. After tonight, he'd proven he was no longer lurking in the shadows.

"You called me?"

Barbara yelped, as embarrassing as it was, she actually yelped in surprise, hearing the deep growl from behind her. She turned, bumping her back against the edge of the wall, and stared at the figure in front of her. It was him. It was really him. He was here. It had worked; the Batman.

After her moment of surprise, Barbara composed herself, nodding weakly, trying to remain calm as she answered him. Great. Way to seem like a scared kid playing around up here. "I did."

"Why?"

"Because I needed to talk to you."

The answer was a simple one, yet he looked confused by it, tilting his head a little to the side, and examining her. He clearly wasn't one for chit-chat. Good. That would make this easier, as much as she wanted to know the man behind the mask. _Keep this professional, Babs._

"Oh?"

"Yeah," she breathed, stepping forward a little further as her confidence grew. "About Bane, and what's been happening. The stock exchange tonight– for instance."

Batman sighed, stepping forward and dropping from his perch. He straightened up a little, and Barbara realised just how small she felt in comparison to him. He was so tall, damn it. "What do you need to know that made you call me?"

His voice, as well, was so deep and gruff. She understood how he scared criminals so easily. But not her. Nope. She wasn't scared – intimidated maybe, but definitely not scared. This was the man who'd saved her life years ago. He'd saved her family too. How could she fear a man she knew was good? "What's going on?"

"That's a long story, one that you needn't get involved in."

"Why not?" Barbara bit back, slightly annoyed by the dismissal. She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. "My Dad is lying in the hospital because of this guy. Both he, and I, know this is just the beginning of something bigger. Much bigger, and your return kind of just proves this."

"That may be true, that trouble is coming. You just need to be prepared."

"So help us be."

Batman sighed, the wind whipping his cape around them theatrically. She saw the deliberation in his eyes as he surrendered, and finally answered with "Bane attacked the stock exchange today, transferring funds from Wayne Enterprises."

"Why?" She was surprised he'd given in so easily to her, even if what he was saying didn't make sense.

"I'm not 100% sure."

"He's set up camp in the sewers, right?"

"Yes. I believe so. Why?"

Barbara paused, biting her lip slowly as she stopped herself, thinking it over. "Nothing. Just a hunch… I think I can find him."

Batman's eyes narrowed in suspicion and recognition. "Careful that hunch doesn't get you into trouble."

"Says you?" Barbara chuckled weakly, catching the faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes before he turned to leave. Those eyes… they'd haunted her for years. So young, yet so old. She knew them from somewhere, knew they belonged to someone else, but she couldn't think who. It was a question that had plagued her for years. "Thank you, Batman."

He froze, not moving, yet facing away from her as if stunned by her words. "What for?"

"What you did before, the night that Harvey Dent died… I never got to say thank you for saving my family-"

"You're welcome."

With that, he stepped up on to the roof, and disappeared beyond into the night, leaving Barbara to stand, and watch, the way he had before, but this time, it was so different. He'd given her things to think about. But one thing was for sure… he was back and she would make sure it was to stay.

* * *

"Di. I need you to do something."

Diane just chuckled down the phone, and she sighed a little. "Nice to speak to you too. Don't suppose this favour is going to be having drinks?"

"Nope," Barbara smirked back.

Barbara calmly turned, heading towards the canteen. Right now, she needed WIFI. Ever since last night on the roof, it was as if a fire had been lit inside her. She'd been up thinking for hours, trying to work out what was going on, and what to do about it. Batman… she'd seen him again. She'd seen him in person. She couldn't even believe it herself.

She also couldn't help thinking about what he'd said, about Wayne Enterprises, and on Bane. She had enough to work on, but needed space to work.

It was why Barbara entered the oddly quiet hospital canteen and approached an empty table by one of the many windows. Calmly she set the laptop on the table and leaned back into the plastic chair. She sighed and waited as she connected. Thank heavens for the hospital's free WIFI.

"I need you to use our system to look at something."

"This doesn't sound good…"

"I need you to look at the city documentation for the sewers."

"I was right: this isn't good. This is about Bane-"

Barbara couldn't deny it, and even though it felt wrong abusing her access to classified city documents, it was kind of urgent – and for a good cause. "Yep."

"No wonder I feel this is a bad idea."

"Can you look it up, and send it over?"

"On it," Diane chuckled again, and Barbara sighed in relief. Good. That was one less thing to worry about. No matter what she could always count on her friend to pull through and support her. Diane really was a Godsend. "I'll send it now. Although why you didn't just ring the investigator unit and ask them is curious."

"Because this isn't exactly on the books, Di," Barbara replied earnestly. "I need someone I can trust, and I know that's you."

"Obviously." Diane sounded remarkably pleased with her friend's assessment. "I'll send the files through now. Good luck."

With that, the phone disconnected.

Barbara logged in to her email calmly and found the attachment waiting for her a few moments later. She opened the file, watching as the bar progressed, the files transferring to her system.

She opened them as soon as she could, scrolling through the pages and pages of documents. There was maintenance, lists of employees and checks, even construction records.

It didn't take that long for her to find something of interest. In fact, it was a name - a name on several files, all recent, that repeated itself over and over again, flagging her attention to it.

John Daggett? Hmm…

Her fingers flew to the keyboard before she knew it, and she headed to the internet, opening a new tab and began her search, typing the name into the search bar: J-O-H-N-D-A-G-G-E-T-T.

To her surprise, her search turned up little. Mostly random fluff pieces in Gotham's society pages, or random profiles on Facebook. Or so it seemed. After enough hours of staring at the screen to blur her vision, and about twenty forgotten cups of coffee, her luck paid off. It had taken a lot of digging, but she began to gather enough, enough to spark her interest.

She scribbled the last few details on the legal pad she'd removed from her bag, and closed the lid of her laptop, sliding out of the booth. With that, she reached into her pocket, and removed the phone, dialling the one number she needed right now; the only other person who could help her.

"Blake."

"Barbara?" he greeted in return, his tone sharp with surprise and concern. "What is it? Is it your dad-"

Barbara was touched by his concern but knew they didn't have time for idle chat. Besides, her father was alright. There was no need to alarm him about it. "No. He's alright."

"Good," Blake sighed in relief, even if curiosity laced his words. "So what can I do for you then?"

"I have something for you."

"What?"

"I pulled some records to do with the sewers, as you said that's where Bane's been holed up. I've been looking at maps, old plans, licenses… There's a name on all of them, attached to all the permits," she explained, doing her best to entice him and his curiosity. Then again, it wasn't like she had to try very hard. The man was more curious than she. "I don't know if it means anything, but I've been running his name on my laptop. I'm digging, but I'm not finding anything out of the ordinary."

"Who is it?" he continued, sounding heavily surprised by her news. Clearly, he hadn't expected the detective work on her part. What could she say? She didn't like being bored.

"John Daggett."

"Shit."

Barbara heard his curse and raised an eyebrow. Did he know something? "What?" she asked suddenly, halting in her tracks.

"Don't worry. You'll find out soon enough. I'm headed over to you now."

She nodded. "Ok."

"Can you show me the permits when I get back?"

"Yeah, I have the papers here," she replied, looking down at the laptop in her hand.

"Good. See you in a few."

"See you." She heard him hang up, and did the same, slotting her phone in her back pocket, and turning on her heels went to await his arrival. Clearly, she was going to need more coffee.

* * *

Barbara looked up as the doors opened, allowing both her, and Blake, out into the hall. He had the papers clutched in his hands, and she had the laptop in hers. Both nodded to each other as they strode out confidently, armed and ready to go.

Having met in the canteen only fifteen minutes ago, it hadn't taken them long to slot together their individual pieces of this rather bizarre puzzle.

The pair of cops outside her father's room looked up at their approach, and recognised them, allowing them access instantly. As soon as they entered the room, Barbara saw her father, sat in bed, glasses positioned on his nose. To her annoyance, she saw Foley talking to him too. Great. She could feel the annoyance radiate off of Blake as well, which was reassuring.

As much as her father still looked pale, and weak, with the oxygen mask next to him, he still seemed focused. Barbara noticed the look in her eyes, and she found it relieving. It took more than a few bullets to keep him down.

"Can we help you, officer?" Foley demanded, looking straight past Barbara to Blake. She didn't know if she found that insulting or not.

"John Daggett's body was found in a dumpster an hour ago." Blake began, eyeing the deputy back. "Thought you might like to know."

Gordon eyed the pair of them curiously. "Why's that?"

"Because his name is all over these permits we pulled," Barbara intercepted, nodding to the papers in Blake's hands. He held them up and put them down on the table in front of them.

"We?"

She caught the surprise, and skepticism, in Foley's voice. So she turned, and nodded firmly, but not unkindly at him. "Yeah," she breathed. "I got a hunch and found the name after Blake told me to pull the papers. Blake found the guy. We put two and two together."

She caught Blake's surprise at her praise, but he controlled it, continuing their presentation. "His name is on MTA maintenance, sewer construction…"

"Where did you get to with the tunnel searches?" Gordon continued, turning his attention to Foley.

"Remind me to tell the detail to keep the hotheads out," Foley muttered under his breath and looking at Blake. "We've had teams down there, but it's a huge network-"

"Get more men," Gordon ordered. "Work a grid. I want him found."

"Yeah, Yeah," Foley sighed. "We're on it."

Gordon picked up the papers, leafing through them slowly. "This is good work," he told Blake, his eyes choosing not to focus on his daughter. It wasn't missed by Barbara. "Lose the uniform. You're working for me now. We could use some hotter heads around here."

Blake's smile widened, and he tried not to appear too smug to Foley. However, it was clear he was flattered by the promotion. Even Barbara smiled a little, not minding how her part in all this seemed to have been reduced down to a footnote. Blake deserved it, even if he was jumping into the deep end timing wise.

"This could just be coincidence," he countered, sounding a little doubtful. It was a lot of pressure, having their trust on this lead, even if Barbara had helped him find it.

"You're a detective now, son," Gordon smirked, glancing at the young man. "You're not allowed to believe in coincidence anymore."

* * *

Walking out of the hospital room, it was clear both Blake and Barbara shared their sense of exhilaration and relief. Their lead had worked out better than they'd hoped in a rare moment of success.

The feeling of elation was one unfamiliar to both. So, Barbara savoured it as best she could as she watched Blake heading for the elevator with a rushed, "see you later."

The doors had barely closed behind him before she felt the vibration of her phone in her pocket. She paused, glancing at the caller I.D. before hastily accepting.

Shit. Derek. Barbara knew exactly what this call was about.

"Hello?" she began hesitantly, trying to keep herself composed as she waited for his ever prickly tone.

That was precisely what she received as he replied, "Miss Gordon."

It made her heart race anxiously. Derek was a great boss, and a decent mentor, however, he was notoriously strict. Lateness, irresponsibility, and failure were three things he did not tolerate… unfortunately for her right then as she realised exactly why he was calling.

"Derek," Barbara greeted smoothly. "What can I do for you? I-"

"I'm working over the prep for the case tomorrow," he interrupted, not waiting for her to even finish the sentence, "and I can't seem to find the memo I asked for on our witness preps." Barbara froze. It felt as if the world had fallen from around her. Shit.

"I... Derek," she started pleadingly. In all the excitement with Bane, she had very much forgotten about that, despite Diane's reminder the day before. However, she knew better than to confess that to him. Stating she prioritised the Batman over her internship didn't exactly sound like a bright idea.

So much for her brief success streak. "Where is it, Gordon?"

"It ... Isn't it there?" Barbara deflected, turning on her heels and marching down the hall. The last thing she needed was anyone else hearing what was coming.

"No." Derek sounded both impatient, and disapproving. Barbara was at least grateful she didn't have to witness this in person. Audibly was painful enough. "Hence the call."

"Sir, I'm so sorry."

"Sorry? You have to be kidding me, right?" Yep. She was dead. Officially dead. "I gave you one job-"

"I know-"

"Here I was, saying not an hour ago, how good you are doing here. What on earth is your excuse-"

"I can explain-"

And she could. Her father was in the hospital after all - having been shot. So what if she had dropped the ball a bit? Yes, she shouldn't have got so involved in whatever had put her father here in the first place, but screw it. Who could blame her if her mind hadn't been entirely on her actual work?

"I hope so," Derek snapped briskly down the line, silencing her from actually attempting to vocalise said explanation. Clearly, he wasn't interested. "Cause I'm sat here, now facing a last-minute shit storm for one of our biggest cases tomorrow."

"I know."

He sighed. "Never mind. It's fine. We can pick this up when I see you in the office later."

The line went dead.

Barbara hung up. She groaned, just stared at the wall, banging her head against it. "Fuck."


	7. Chapter 6

_**Hey guys. Thanks as always for reading this, and a huge thank you to those of you who have reviewed, favourited and followed this story. You've literally made my week. As a thank you I'm posting this even though I'm getting on a plane in like 5 hours and going on holiday for a few weeks - so warning I won't be updating for a little bit, but I have the next few chapters ready for when I get back so it won't be too long. I promise! Also, hopefully, this chapter is fluffy enough to make up for it too ;) Thesilentmage x**_

* * *

The thing about Diane Lance was that she always got what she wanted. Having snagged Barbara's word earlier, in exchange for her co-operation in the search for Bane, Barbara had little choice but to honour their agreement. Hence, she reluctantly left her father's bedside, which she knew pleased everyone else, and headed out to meet Diane outside.

That evening, Barbara and Diane managed to bundle themselves off to Flannigan's, armed with their thick jackets and scarves, the only things preventing them from getting a severe case of hypothermia from the late evening wind that howled outside like a banshee. Barbara almost wished she had a pair of earmuffs to mute it out but was content with her thick pullover hood. It worked almost as well and meant she could hear what was said beside her.

Through the crowds of people out in the city that night stood a rather smallish building, just visible above the mass' heads.

Barbara rubbed her hands together and pushed her way through to the slightly rusted door. The once vibrant mint green paint was peeling off at the touch. This was Flannigan's, a popular watering hole for the GCPD. On most days, the boys in blue could be seen inside, filling it up. The inside was filled with wooden tables and was lit by dim lights. There was a roaring fire inside, despite it not being that cold that night, and already she could hear the cheesy music flooding from the speakers.

Barbara hadn't been too keen on drinks and dinner with Diane with everything going on, not to mention her shit phone call with Derek, but she could hardly refuse after everything her friend had done for her so far. Hence why she smiled, linking arms with her friend as they entered through the door.

"Is this your attempt to make sure I'm not a worried wreck?" Barbara breathed, lowering her hood as they stepped over the threshold.

Diane just smiled at her, shrugging calmly. "Can't blame a girl for trying to take care of her friends."

"Oh, I think you can," she retorted playfully. "Especially when she won't take no for an answer."

Diane though was a determined woman, and Barbara had learned there was no stopping her sometimes. Diane squared her shoulders and turned to the bar behind them. "I'll get the drinks. What do you want?"

"Just a coffee. Black – like my soul," Barbara teased.

Diane swatted her arm and pushed her towards the tables. "Find us some seats, you miserable woman."

Diane turned away muttering to herself something about the sheer cheek of it, and how she could barely stand anymore. Barbara grinned and looked for an empty set of seats. It took a moment until she spotted a spare booth wedged near one of the larger windows and then began shuffling forward.

The bar was unusually crowded for a Monday; most of the rickety stools and threadbare sofas were filled with workers, students, and cops, enjoying the free weeknight. A strong smell of beer and coffee polluted the air.

Barbara settled down and noticed the people around her, busy with their fascinating conversations. The only person within hearing distance was a blonde headed girl who sat opposite a rather muscly brunette boy. Barbara ignored them and grinned. At least being this far back meant that many of the cops in here may not spot them, and they could escape un-noticed, much to her relief. She didn't need anybody else's condolences about her father's condition.

She watched as he made his way back towards the bar, and just in time too as Diane re-appeared armed with two large coffees and a plate of brownies.

"Yum."

Diane set them down swiftly and threw herself onto the spot opposite her. "I hate it when they run out of mugs; those cups are like red-hot irons." She blew on her fingers desperately causing Barbara to hide her apparent smile.

She stared at her for a moment and sighed, resting her head on her chin. No one in here had even the foggiest of ideas what was happening in this city right now. Diane, too, was so lucky, to have only the thought of dating, drinks, and work on her mind. She was able to continue something of an average social life as well as keeping up her work pile, something Barbara was failing at miraculously. She supposed that she could ask her for help with the paperwork but decided against it. She'd get to it later.

However, her head became suddenly filled with Batman and her newest dilemma. _I could tell her_ she pondered. _I'm being a bad friend by not. I mean, it's Diane. She helped me find the plans. She's my best friend. She'd understand…_ but she wouldn't. She was still human, and prone to overreact-

"Yo, Babs," Diane snapped. "You're staring at me, why are you staring at me? Have I got a coffee stash?"

Barbara gulped unsure of what to say. Luckily, she was saved from having to choose how to reply.

"Someone looks glum."

"Yep," she sighed, sipping her coffee as she skillfully deflected the conversation. It was a skill she was particularly good at. "Having the day from hell kinda does that to you."

"I heard about your day, Barbara. Derek was rough on you."

"Ya think?"

"Still, it was just an accident, right?" Diane shrugged, smiling reassuringly across the booth. "We all drop the ball time to time, and I've seen you over the last year. You've been nothing but a hard worker- you were bound to slip up some time, happens to the best of us. It's this job. It kills you whilst making you better than you thought you could ever be."

"Wow," Barbara murmured. "You really like your job."

"As do you," Diane countered, "which is why you look so beat up about today."

Barbara knew better than to deny it. Instead, she nodded. "Derek was right. I fucked up. What's worse, is I just stood there, whilst he ripped me a new one. I could have spoken up, told him the reason I forgot was a personal thing and... Ugh."

"It doesn't matter. It will work itself out in the end."

Barbara prayed she was right, letting her eyes sweep the room. She paused, startled as she noticed something unexpected.

Standing at the bar a few feet away was none other than Office Blake himself. Unlike earlier, when she had last seen him, his jacket was off and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He was staring right at her, the corner of his narrow mouth quirked in amusement, a bottle of beer in his hand.

"What is it?" mused Diane following her line of gaze, but it was apparent she hadn't spotted the man Barbara had. _I see you_ she thought. She stared at him as she thought it and watched as he turned and seemed to notice her too. His face changed from passive to a smile in a minute as he raised his left hand to wave at her.

Barbara waved back nervously, not sure why she was acting like a school girl with a crush. It was just Blake. Yeesh. Calm down.

"Who's that?" Diane interrupted, a smile also spreading across her lips, one much more primal and appreciative than Barbara's. It was clear the topic of conversation had well and truly drifted from work.

"Blake?" Barbara called, almost answering Diane's question as she did.

"So that's Blake…"

Instantly, Barbara whipped her head back, and rolled her eyes – again. "Down, Di. No."

Diane just smirked, pouting as she got to her feet, mug in hand. "No, what? I'm just putting a name to the face you've been going on about all week," she retorted. "A pretty cute face at that but still… Let's go say hi, shall we?"

Barbara cursed, knowing what was happening, yet was on her feet before she knew it. She took her own mug and tried to remember a time when she'd not been helpless to Diane's will. Not surprisingly, she couldn't remember such a time. Ever. She needed to work on that.

They made their way smoothly across the room to the bar and approached the new detective where he stood, drinking alone. _Rough day?_ Barbara thought to herself slowly, watching his expression brighten as she approached, Diane in tow.

"Barbara, hey," he began politely.

"Blake," she responded mimicking his tone. She also realised this was the first time she'd seen the detective outside of work. It was almost awkward, even if they had been pretty relaxed around each other this week. Maybe it was the presence of an extra person. Speaking of whom… "This is Diane, the one I told you about from work," she continued, gesturing to the woman beside her, who extended a hand on cue.

Blake took it, and shook it, smiling as he took her in. Barbara wasn't surprised; Diane was a pretty sight in most people's eyes. Yet, she was surprised by the sudden feeling of jealousy she felt brewing in her stomach. That was new.

"Pleasure to finally meet the mysterious Blake I've been hearing about all week," Diane replied.

"Likewise," Blake breathed, slowly taking his hand back. "I've heard about you too."

"Seems Barbara likes to talk about her friends." Diane sniggered, and lightly nudged Barbara's arm. Barbara smiled in return and looked between her two friends.

"Hardly," Barbara replied, taking another sip from her mug.

Blake shrugged, almost mirroring her as he drank from his almost empty beer. "Well, either way, it's nice to meet you, Diane."

Diane seemed to pause, watching the two of them for that moment before downing her own drink, which caught Barbara's attention.

"Oh! Shoot!" she suddenly exclaimed, making Barbara jump. "I promised I'd take a look at some paperwork for Eric at the library," she sighed, with a half-assed shrug. "I'd better go. You don't mind Babs?" She turned, giving Barbara a devious look as she did.

Barbara nodded at her suspiciously and hugged her warmly. "Have fun," she teased, sounding skeptical, and squeezing her a little tighter than necessary.

There was no paperwork. She didn't have to be a detective to know that.

"Yeah, yeah. See you tomorrow!" she giggled beginning to fight her way out the mass of people. "Call me later."

Barbara waved at her and tried to understand what had just happened. She was now stood, alone, with Blake, in a café. Huh. Well… that had happened fast.

The only relief she found, as she turned back to said Detective, was the equal look of surprise, and awkwardness at the newfound scenario. Neither seemed to know what to do for a minute, and it felt like that minute lasted forever. Or was that just in Barbara's mind? Crap.

"So… long day," Barbara began, sipping her mug slowly, striking up the conversation as best as she could.

"You can say that again," Blake replied with a smile, sipping his own drink. Thank god. He was speaking. "Not every day I get promoted."

"You earned it," Barbara smiled back warmly, noticing the way he'd almost lit up with pride at that statement, lifting his chin a mere fraction. "My Dad likes you, I can see it in his face when he talks to you. You're a good cop, and you care. Not a lot of people like you are left."

"Still, you were the one that found the permits," he countered, leaning his elbow against the bar. There was something in his expression as his eyes locked firmly onto hers. It was as if he was searching for something, trying to work out a puzzle of some kind. "My character doesn't matter. You found the lead, although I still have no idea where you even got the idea in the first place-"

"And you found Daggett," Barbara countered. "We make a great team."

She paused, laughing as he nodded in agreement.

"Just don't say that to your Dad. He might not like the idea of you getting involved in all this, and I'd like to live long enough to actually get my promotion…" He trailed off into faint laughter, shaking his head.

"Don't you worry," she soothed, putting her empty mug down and looking straight at the man beside her. "I can handle my Dad. He's all bark and no bite."

"Doubt that when you look at his service record."

"That was back when we were 'at war'," Barbara murmured, repeating the line she'd heard repeatedly over the years, even if it didn't feel true in her eyes. "It's supposedly been peaceful up until now."

Blake seemed to soften at her tone and tilted his head ever so slightly to the side. "You think we'll end up like we did before?" He didn't sound skeptical, merely curious. But after everything that had been happening recently, it wasn't hard to be.

"Hard not to at this rate. Bane has something going on in the sewers, and he's now made his move at the stock exchange. It's hard not to feel like this is a slippery slope back to trouble."

"Well, we have the Batman back. That's got to be good for something, right?"

Barbara nodded. It was surprisingly easy to talk to Blake. It was the way it had been most of the week, between them. It all just felt natural. For heaven's sake, she was even being open with him about this. Then again, he had seen her vulnerable before in the hospital room. He'd been nothing but kind, and open in return. Barbara didn't know how, but she trusted him, and the people who she could say that about could be counted on one hand. "I hope so… I really do."

"Anyway," Blake continued, trying to keep the atmosphere light. Both of them had enough to think about, without lingering on this. "Want another drink?"

Barbara smiled gratefully, and nodded again, appreciating the offer. "Sure. Thanks."

Blake turned back to the bar over his shoulder, and tried to flag the waitress' attention. It was busy that night, and it was a harder job than it seemed.

However, they didn't place their order, as their attention was drawn away, by the sound of someone calling to them- or more specifically, Blake.

Barbara, and Blake, heard the shout across the bar, catching both their attention towards the small group of people positioned away from them. There were two guys, not so much older than Barbara, by the looks of it, and a woman too, all smiling, and waving over at them.

"Blake! Get over here!"

Blake turned, and spotted them, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. They were clearly friends, or colleagues by the way they smiled at him. That, and one of the guys was dressed in his patrol attire. "Oh… I… uh…" Blake muttered weakly, giving them a wave back. Barbara smirked.

"Bring the date!" they called, smiling back at Barbara in particular. That made her laugh a little, watching as Blake turned reddish in response to the insinuation.

 _Date? Huh._ Was that what this seemed like?

 _Crap._

"Sorry about them-" he began, turning to her quickly.

Barbara just laughed, a little nervously, shaking her head as she waved back at the group. "Don't be. They seem like fun."

"That's one word for it," he muttered under his breath, eyes dropping to the floor.

Barbara stopped. Since when was she this confident? Ugh. She hadn't even denied the 'date' part. She opened her mouth to reply, but instead stopped, watching as the man nearest suddenly turned, and almost skipped over to them.

Ok. This wasn't over.

Blake groaned under his breath, and pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering his apologies already to her. Barbara found it a little funny. For once, she wasn't the one being embarrassed. It was a nice change.

"Hey, man."

"Gates," Blake greeted the man, giving him a side hug, which was returned eagerly.

"We've got a game of darts going. Fancy a go?" Gates breathed, as he stepped back from the embrace. Barbara noted the way his words slurred a little, and smiled even more. How the man could even see straight, let alone throw a dart was beyond her.

"Oh, no-"

"Come on. You're just scared of my skills after last time," Gates scoffed, swatting Blake's chest with a little too much vigour. Blake coughed, bending over and clutching his chest in surprise. Ow. That looked like it hurt.

"Am not," he managed to wheeze. Ok. He was only winded.

"You up for it Miss…." Gates tried, turning to Barbara instead, and gesturing behind him to the dart board.

"Gordon, Barbara Gordon," she greeted back, liking the way Gates laughed at that.

"Oh yeah! Commiss's kid. You in?"

Barbara paused, biting her lip in thought as she considered the offer. She glanced between Gates, to the rest of the gang, to Blake, whom seemed uncomfortable (now finally standing upright again) to say the least. Hmmm…

"As much as it's a pleasure to meet you Gates, I have to say no," she began, shrugging a little. "It's not fair for me to kick all your asses, especially having just met you."

Gates just laughed again, clearly enjoying her attitude. Even Blake looked a little surprised by her comment. "Confident are we?"

"Yep." She was, and she didn't know why. She liked it though.

"In which case you're on. Blake?"

It was Barbara's turn to ask now, nudging his arm lightly. "You in?"

"What the hell," he surrendered, looking at her warmly as everyone laughed, turning back to the game. Seemed they had a game to win, and a few drinks to have.

The evening was surprisingly fun, Barbara decided. Gates and the other officers had been nice, and those who weren't drunk – which was only one of the party – had been interesting to chat to as well. The others had been hilarious, aiming darts all over the place, and trying to cram drinks down Blake's throat. Nobody had seemed that fussed about her father's name, which also was a relief for Barbara, as it meant she could relax around the officers.

Blake, as it turned out, was pretty fun out of work too. He'd only had a drink or two before cutting himself off, but there was giddy, boyish charm about him that Barbara hadn't seen before. Maybe it remained hidden by his formal work attitude, but it was a nice change. He'd made jokes, told stories about his time in the GCPD so far, and actually been pretty decent at darts. Barbara had been ok, but she'd never been a big fan of the game.

That evening she had learnt a lot about the young officer. For instance, she had found out his favourite colour was green, that his favourite novel was 'To Kill A Mockingbird', and that he had a rather impressive collection of vinyls back at his apartment.

Either way, as the evening wore on, people began to drift home. Soon, she did the same, wishing all that were left a "good night". Blake, once more surprisingly, had risen to see her to the door, before saying goodbye, insisting he wanted to make sure she got a cab ok.

There was something about him, and something about his polite smile that made Barbara's heart skip just a little faster. As she drove away, leaving him there on the curb, she smiled privately. She hoped to see more of this Detective John Blake. He was one more friend in the city.

* * *

The next morning, Barbara was aware of three things. The first was that Diane Lance was a sly woman who was far more cunning than she'd ever given her credit for. It didn't take a genius to realise that her whole 'paperwork' excuse the night before had been just that - an excuse. Clearly, she had planned on leaving Barbara alone with Blake, although what she had expected to follow that Barbara had no idea.

The second thing Barbara was aware of, was that she was grateful she had left Flannigan's when she had. Her exhaustion from the previous night of darts and drinking was oddly strong, especially as she hauled her ass out of bed and into the shower. She could only dread what would have happened had she accepted Gates' offer of another game, even if it would have meant more time with Blake.

Thirdly, Barbara needed to get back to work. As much as she had tried to move past the warning her boss had issued her the day before, Barbara couldn't shake the guilt in her gut at her negligence the past week or so. How many papers was she supposed to have worked on this week? How many case briefs were left waiting for her to compile?

Derek had been right. She'd dropped the ball this week, what with everything happening with her Dad and the Batman, but that stopped now. Barbara Gordon had never failed at anything before, and she wasn't about to start now.

So, that morning, she had finally left the hospital, and resumed her heavy workload. Hence why she and Diane were here, at City Hall, trailing behind two other lawyers from their office. Thankfully they had adjourned their case for the day, leaving Barbara and Diane free to carry on their own assignments, rather than assisting the others.

"I'm gonna go grab a coffee. I could murder one right now. I'm also going out for lunch," Barbara declared as they exited the stuffy court room. "I think I've earned it."

"You sure have," Diane beamed, glancing at her watch. If either of them had to make any more notes regarding the city's legal policies for construction, they were going to scream. "I'll meet you back at the office in an hour or so."

"Sounds like a plan. Want me to grab you anything?"

Diane shook her head happily. "Nope, I'm fine. Besides… I wouldn't want to be out there today. There's the big play off at Gotham stadium today. Every where's crawling with people. Far too crowded for my liking."

A weird surge of nostalgia swirled in Barbara's stomach as she remembered how her father used to take her and Jimmy to the games when they were younger. He'd always buy those large hot dogs and smother them in ketchup - best part of the game, he said. Never could beat stadium food. Barbara smiled at the memory as they headed past the crowds of observers that were also leaving for the recess, and headed out into the busy hallway. It was just another day in city hall.

"Oh. Forgot about that," Barbara mused. "Well, I'll be careful. Go Gotham!" she cheered mockingly. Diane laughed in response.

They finally made it outside into the crisp autumnal air, and with that, she left. Diane going one way, she the other.

Barbara felt the chill instantly through her jacket, causing a tremor to run through her as she headed over the courtyard to the run down coffee shack that was positioned by the kerb. It was nothing fancy, not by any means. However, despite the run down and rustic apparel of the vendor, the coffee van was a saviour for the busy lawyers and workers that flooded City hall every day. It was a place to snatch a desperately needed cup of caffeine, a necessity in their line of work. A rich odour of freshly ground coffee and bacon filled the morning air, making Barbara desperate.

After several moments the she walked away, armed with her goods. A glance at her watch told Barbara she still had plenty of time to kill.

She took a large bite out of her sandwich, feeling the juices ooze in her mouth. With a smile of satisfaction, she approached one of the numerous wooden benches and sat down.

Barbara didn't say anything, just smiled to herself, staring at the busy street around her. It'd had always been a favourite spot of hers. Today even, Barbara sat back slowly on her newly acquired bench, allowing herself to be fully in the sunlight that streamed through the trees beside her. She could feel the warmth spreading across her back and smiled. She loved sunshine, and now as autumn approached, she was saving every last ray.

Slowly she lifted the large coffee cup and lifted it to her lips. She took a mouthful and gratefully felt the caffeine enter her systems.

Urgh. Work. Why couldn't she stay here all day? As she had gotten older she found her empathy growing for her father. The burden of long hours were a package deal with trying to do something good. Alas, she had little choice on the matter. That's what being a lawyer meant; Giving up her time to help others.

* * *

Blake drove down the roads quickly. For some reason, he felt he had to move. Fast. Something felt wrong. He didn't like this feeling of unease. It made him feel wary; hence why he had been pursuing every lead with a desperate vigour. Maybe, it was the fact he still wasn't any further with this investigation. _Damn it…_ He thought emptily.

Maybe Foley would be proven right after all. Maybe he was just a hot head.

A loud rumbling noise interrupted his chain of thought. Ok. He was hungry. He'd been tempted to stop for lunch earlier but hadn't on the basis he couldn't stop now. This lead may not be anything great – but it was all he had currently.

He drove to the next destination on his list he'd been given that morning by Commissioner Gordon: A cement factory on the outskirts of town.

Blake didn't know why, but he'd almost struggled to look at the man properly after the day before. He owed him everything for promoting him. Speaking of, he paused and thought back to last night at the Bar with Barbara. It had been her, after all, that had helped him in the first place. He didn't know what he made of the commissioner's daughter, except that he liked her.

She was nice, and funny, and kind. She was also determined and had a fire that surprised him. For a smaller girl, and a younger person, she was incredibly talented – and resourceful. She got that from her father, he concluded as he drove down the street, turning at the next junction. In another life, she'd have made a great cop.

* * *

Barbara sighed, feeling the time slipping away from her. A brief glance at her wrist told her what she needed to know; she needed to get back to the office. She had a paper she needed to finish to hand in to the university on Monday, and she still wanted to be able to go home to change before she went back to the hospital later. Great.

Slowly, she got to her feet, and headed to the kerb. She made it out on to the street, and smiled weakly as she did.

But it was then; then that she felt the rumbling from below her, as if the city itself had come to life. She heard panicked cries around her, and before she knew what was happening the world exploded, concrete flying everywhere, knocking her backwards with it.

Before she even hit the ground, her vision went black, and she was lost in the darkness that consumed Gotham.


	8. Chapter 7

_**Guess who's** **baaaaaack** ** _._ I had the most amazing time in Florida - I finally got to go to Disneyworld after like 19 years of begging and may or may not have met Winnie the Pooh. But anyway, as promised here's the next chapter even if it is a bit of a filler chapter. I also hope you guys didn't mind the wait, and I'm sorry this is a little shorter than normal. Thanks, as always, for reading this,** **favouriting, following and reviewing. I honestly can't describe how much it means to me. So, without further ado... Thesilentmage x**_

* * *

The street erupted all around Blake's cruiser, throwing chunks of asphalt into the air.

Thick black smoke billowed up from below as manhole covers shot upwards into the air. Water gushed from broken fire hydrants and street lamps toppled over, crashing onto the streets and sidewalk.

Snapped electrical wires sparked and hissed. All around pedestrians ran screaming for cover. Horns honked frantically adding to the loud tumult. Brakes squealed painfully. Cars collided. Sirens blared.

Struggling desperately to remain in control of the vehicle, Blake swerved widely, narrowly avoiding bright orange flames that shot up suddenly from an open manhole cover. The notes and maps went flying around inside the cabin of the vehicle, tumbling off the dashboard. His empty coffee cup tipped over also, causing him to swear viciously. However, his grip remained tight on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white from the effort.

His eyes leaped suddenly up to his mirror. Behind him he saw it - the Granton Bridge collapsing, sending a feeling of nausea and terror through his stomach. The illustrious towers, cables, and supports came tumbling down into the river like it had been made from nothing more than Lego.

 _What the hell?_

What made it even worse was the multitude of cars, lorries, and van pouring off the edge of it into the icy waters below. Blake didn't even want to think about how many people had been on that bridge.

He returned his eyes forward and concentrated on getting out of there as fast as possible. With a new found desperation he slammed his foot down harder on the accelerator and watched as the speed counter went up.

Further ahead and off to the right, he could see the Sallow Bridge come down too, severing the east area of Midtown from the mainland. He felt lost and confused. It was all happening so fast.

A sudden sickening realisation hit him. _Bane's cutting of Gotham from the rest of the world. Why?_ None of it made sense. All he could guess was that the other bridges must have been sabotaged too.

Another explosion erupted directly underneath the cruiser, sending it flying onto its roof. Blake barely had time to register what had happened before he felt the seatbelt cut into him, pinning him into his seat.

Sparks flew. Metal screeched loudly. The windshield exploded in a torrent of glass. Blake rose his arms to cover his face and cried out. Smoke and flame flared up around him.

His world was upside down.

* * *

It was a little while later that Blake stirred, struggling to release himself from his metal prison. Feeling slightly shaken Blake squeezed out the side of the car and crawled onto the shattered asphalt.

He felt a slight sense of relief at the realisation that he was free.

Groaning, he took a moment to assess his physical condition. Luckily he was only a little bruised and had suffered what appeared to be minor cuts from the shattered glass.

A burning in his throat caught him by surprise as he gagged slightly, spitting a crimson mouthful of blood on to the floor beside him. As he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve he ran his tongue round his mouth. Luckily his teeth were all still in place, which was the only victory he could expect right then.

Gotham had literally descended into chaos in a matter of moments and he had no idea why. What should he do? He didn't know where anyone was. Part of him wanted to stay here and lie on the pavement. It'd be easier than moving.

Despite this, he slowly crawled back to his vehicle and tentatively reached into the crushed cabin. He struggled a moment before he felt his fingers brush the edge of the radio. With a silent prayer, he yanked it out, hoping it was still working.

A small whine of static greeted him as he held up the unit to his mouth.

"Foley?" he croaked weakly. _Please let him be there…_

"Jesus, Blake!" came a sudden reply. Blake exhaled in relief. Foley sounded terrified and confused. _He isn't the only one_ Blake thought quietly. "Every cop in the city is down in those tunnels!"

 _Except me…_ Blake thought. _Me and –_

He stopped. _Shit_.

"Not every cop," he echoed ominously.

His mind was suddenly filled with the Commissioner's face and Barbara. He had to get to the hospital. Fast.

He suddenly reached into his car and removed his shot gun. He watched as a run-down Sevan trundled past, and wasting no time, Blake went to flag it down.

* * *

It was dark. That was all Barbara knew. It was dark and her ears rang viciously. There was no other noise she could hear. She opened her eyes slowly and winced at the bright sun light that shone down on her face. She coughed and looked around her, trying to understand what had just happened.

People sprinted by soundlessly, terror written all over their faces. Flames burst and roared all around her, filling the air with a bitter tang of ash. It was like one of the old silent horror movies she'd watched as a kid. Except for this time, she was in it.

She gagged silently and tried to sit up, feeling her head swimming. She winced, reaching for her head and realising she was bleeding. Worse than that, she was disorientated and alone.

Suddenly she remembered: the bomb. The explosion - the explosion that had sent her flying and the world around her swirling into chaos.

With a sudden surge of fear, she stood up, shaking her head, regaining some use of her ears. She had to move. Get out of there. Fast.

 _Dad…_ she panicked. The hospital. Was he ok?

Without wasting another second she began scrabbling forward, climbing over the wreckage of the once busy and peaceful street. Behind her, City Hall burned, the pinnacle of justice disintegrating into ash.

* * *

Gordon's heart rate monitor started beeping rapidly. He awoke with a jolt, torn from sleep by a sort of commotion that seemed to be coming from outside his room. He'd been having a nightmare about the shootout in the tunnel with Bane.

Groggy and confused, it took him a moment to realise something very, very bad was happening. Maybe it was too many years as a cop, but his gut told him whatever it was- it was not good, and it was something to do with him.

There were screams and shouts echoing down the corridor, followed by the occasional loud crack. _Gunfire?_

Was the hospital under attack? He was filled with a sudden sense of De Ja Vu of a time before. When the Joker had attacked a hospital for Harvey Dent, then blown up an entire wing on the way out.

He shoved the disturbing memory down to focus on here and now. He had a pretty good idea he knew who was behind this attack- and where they were headed.

Footsteps pounded on the staircase. He could hear doors slamming open and shut. The air was filled with terrified patient's and doctor's screams, running from the commotion. He only had moments before they would find him.

He needed to move and pronto. Clenching his teeth as not to cry out, he pulled back the sheets and ripped the numerous needles out of his arms, severing his bond with the apparatus around him. His stitches hated every moment but held together - Thankfully.

He gripped his IV tree for support and began to move slowly across the room. _This is not what the doctor ordered…_

* * *

The streets were filled with terrified and confused people. All of which darted about the place in a wild surge of panic.

Blake had to keep swerving to avoid them as he plowed down the street in the newly commandeered Sedan.

He grit his teeth. He only hoped he was in time.

Every second he was driving he could feel his panic growing. Hence why the speed-o-meter was way above the limit. He didn't really think anyone was gonna stop him and give him a ticket.

Toppled streetlights and broken down cars made him feel like he was driving through a war zone – which was apparently what Gotham had become. The radio was blasting numerous reports. Apparently, the mayor was dead and the football stadium in pieces. More than sixty thousand people were being held hostage within the stadium walls, and whilst this all was occurring, every cop in Gotham city was buried beneath the ground by feet and feet of concrete.

But he couldn't think about that now. He had to focus. He knew who Bane's next target was going to be. He had to stop him. If he still could.

Blake screeched to a halt outside the hospital entrance and burst out, racing through the revolving door, shotgun still in hand. He bolted through the main entrance which was worryingly empty. Bullet holes decorated the walls and ceilings, sending a chill through him. Broken glass decorated the floor and gun shots filled the air.

 _The Commissioner._

"Crap!" he cursed. Had they found Gordon already?

Taking the steps two at a time he bolted forward, gun aimed forward. When he reached the correct floor he stopped, peering down the hallway cautiously. He couldn't see anyone so continued forward, checking the rooms as he went.

Finally, he burst into Gordon's room as the feeling of metal made contact with his skull. The gentle heat radiating off the tip of it indicated the gun had been fired recently.

Blake froze and raised his hands in surrender. He didn't expect the voice that croaked from behind him.

"Clear the corners, rookie," Gordon scolded him.

Blake turned to see Gordon still dressed in his hospital gown, his trusty Smith & Wesson in his hand. Both men lowered their weapons in relief. Four dead men lay around them, however, both men ignored them.

"Get my coat son," Gordon ordered calmly, and Blake was only too happy to oblige. He didn't tell the commissioner how relieved he was to see him alive, but Gordon could see it written all over the rookie's face. He paused and took another strained step forward.  
"Blake… what happened? Where is everyone?" Gordon asked slowly, trying to create a better picture to himself of the events that had just occurred.

"I'll explain everything later, Sir. We need to move and now, there are probably more men on their way as we speak," Blake replied, handing the Commissioner his faded brown trench coat.

Gordon paused, slowly sliding his arms into their place, requiring a little assistance from Blake as he did so. He seemed to nod at what Blake had said. However, his face suddenly changed, displaying a new sense of panic.

"Blake. Where's my daughter?" he asked. Blake froze.

Barbara. How could he have forgotten her? Where was she? Was she alright? If Bane had targeted Gordon had he sent people after her?

"I… I don't know," he managed feebly, guiding Gordon to the door.

Gordon frowned. "Do you have a phone?"

"In the car."

"Then get us outta here. I need to make a phone call."

Blake nodded again, taking his orders. Without another word, they left quickly climbing in the back of the car and putting as much distance between them and the hospital as possible.

* * *

Barbara stumbled forward desperately, heading in the only direction she could. Home. The streets were crowded and people were beginning to become violent. It was only inevitable. Everything was crumbling around them, it was only a matter of time before the people followed.

She had only made it a few more feet when she felt her suit trouser pocket vibrating.

"What the-?"

Then she remembered. Her phone.

She reached down and removed the device that was surprisingly unscathed. She glanced at the screen, failing to recognise the caller ID. Regardless she picked up, holding the phone millimetres from her face.

"Hello?" she asked slowly. Who would be calling her now?

"Barbara, honey? Thank god… are you alright?"

"Dad?" she exclaimed in surprise. She'd recognise that voice anywhere. Currently, it was the only voice she wanted to hear.

 _What is he doing? Where did he get this phone? Why does he sound out of breath?_ Too many questions suddenly filled her head. "What… Where are you?"

"Look- Honey. It's a long story. Where are you?" came her Dad's quick reply.

"I … I don't know." It was the truth. Barbara had pretty much no clue where she was, surrounded only by smoke and fleeing people. The streets of her home had become unrecognisable in a way she had never imagined. "I was on my way to work, but… there…. There was this bomb and... and…"

Her voice trailed off as she tried to swallow the rising surge of panic within her.

"Sweetheart. Listen to me." Gordon interrupted, hearing his daughter's worry. He knew her too well, but now she needed to listen. They didn't have long. "Whatever you do – don't go home, ok? Don't. Go. Home. Go anywhere else that's safe. Do you have somewhere you can go?"

Barbara physically stopped. What did he mean 'don't go home'? Where else was she meant to go? "Dad where are you?" she demanded quickly in reply.

"I can't say. It isn't safe for you to know."

"Bull-" she began but was cut off as her father coughed.

"Language," he scolded.

Apparently, whatever condition her father was in, it was well enough that his paternal instincts remained fully intact. Some things never changed.

"Dad. I need to know. Are you ok? What's going on?" she asked again, firmer this time. She wanted answers. No, she _needed_ answers.

"I'll call later. I'm with Officer Blake. I'm fine. Just get off the streets and lay low a while. I promise I'll explain later," he soothed quickly, not giving her an awful lot of chance to interject. "I love you, honey."

"Ok," she managed to murmur in response. "Fine. Love you too, Dad. Stay safe."

"Will do."

Then the phone went dead.

For a moment Barbara stood there wondering what the hell was happening. However, she knew she had to follow her Dad's advice. She needed to move, and she knew exactly where to go. Speedily she dialed a new number and waited as she heard it ringing. As soon as she heard it connect she began to talk.

"Diane?" Barbara began. "Hey… I'm fine. Look, I need another favour."

* * *

Diane Lance was never one to panic. All her life she had been a woman of calm and logic. Barbara had many a time seen Diane chucked a case last minute that would usually have sent any lawyer into a tail spin. But not Diane. No. She would pick it up calmly and within minutes have a plan of action. So it was surprising for Barbara to see, as she opened the front door, Diane pacing about her apartment nervously.

Diane's fine blond hair was scraped off her face into a messy ponytail and her eyes seemed tired. Barbara didn't blame her. Today had been tiring for everyone.

Barbara could see Diane's suit jacket cast over the back of the sofa, and her sleeves were rolled up into a mess of folded shirt. The apartment itself also seemed to have descended into disarray. Papers littered the floor; books stacked on the coffee table and curtains blocked the windows, enclosing them inside. In the background the tv was blaring some emergency broadcast, displaying images of the newly crumbling Gotham.

It made Barbara feel sick. _What the hell is happening?_

Barbara closed the door and locked it behind her. She didn't know who was out and about but didn't want to wait to find out. She'd run here, using as many different routes as possible. She knew it was silly but for some reason, she was worried to be seen. Her Dad had told her to lay low so she was. That was why she was here, with the only person she knew that she trusted and knew was close. Knocking on the door quickly Barbara watched her friend, instantly gaining her attention.

"Babs," Diane gushed, turning around and encasing her in a hug. "Thank god you're ok. I was so worried. I didn't know what was happening. You had just said you were coming back when the bombs went off. I thought you'd been injured or worse."

Barbara smiled weakly at her friend's concern and wrapped her arms around her friend's slender figure. She was grateful for her support. "I'm fine. I mean… a little dazed but I'll live."

There was a minute of quiet as both girls let their relief consume them. They were safe. Alive. Thank god.

Diane paused, looking at her friend. "Barbara you're bleeding!" she gasped, looking at the scrape buried beneath Barbara's fiery hair. Barbara pulled back.

"Honestly Di - it's just a scratch. Breathe." she soothed quickly.

Diane sighed. "Have you spoken to your Dad?" she asked. Barbara nodded weakly.

"Yeah… He's the reason I came over here. Apparently, it isn't safe to go home whatever the hell that means," she began. "But he's alright - currently. what about your Dad? You called him?" Barbara asked back, watching her friend with interest – and partly trying to divert attention from her.

She knew Diane's father had to be worried about her. He was all the way in Starling for goodness sake. Even so, Barbara knew he had to have seen the news – or at least heard what was happening – by now.

Diane nodded. "Yeah. I got a panicked phone call like five minutes ago. He saw it on the news, and wanted to check I was ok."

Barbara sighed, kicking off her shoes and peeling off her dirt covered jacket. She watched as they dropped to the wooden floor, landing in a heap. "At least he knows you're ok. That's something I guess…"

Barbara trailed off. To be honest she wasn't still one hundred percent sure what had just happened this last hour. She half expected to wake up at any moment and discover this had all been some crazy dream. Part of her really wanted it to be a dream…

"Do you know what happened?" Diane asked calmly snapping Barbara's attention back to reality.

Barbara shook her head. "No clue. I was walking down the street when suddenly I heard screams and next thing I know, I wake up and everything's gone to hell."

Diane was about to reply but Barbara cut her off quickly, her attention taken suddenly by the TV.

"Is that the President?"

To her amazement, none other than the President of the United States himself stood on the tv screen for all to see. Even without sound, she could see the way he addressed the nation with a calm and composed face.

 _How long had he been working on that expression?_

Barbara grabbed the remote and cranked up the volume, filling the air with his heavy speech.

"The people of our greatest city are resilient," he began."They have proven this before and will prove it again."

Aerial photos continued their loop, illustrating the full extent of the destruction. Barbara stopped. This was bigger than she'd thought. The whole city was cut off from the world. The stadium and a large majority of Gotham had been destroyed and people fled in terror.

"We do not negotiate with terrorists," the President continued, "But we do recognise realities…"

"We're so fucked," Diane gasped emptily from behind Barbara. For once, she couldn't disagree.


	9. Chapter 8

_**Good afternoon folks! Here's a long one for all you lovely people as we finally start getting to the good stuff XD as always, your reviews, follows and messages mean the world to me. Thank you for reading this, and I hope you enjoy it. Writing this has been the only thing keeping me sane at the moment as I've been working non-stop this summer so thank you for reading this, and I hope you enjoy it. Thesilentmage xxx**_

* * *

Barbara groaned as she clicked her neck from side to side. She had awoken some hours ago after an uncomfortable night's sleep on the sofa. She knew Diane had offered her her bed, but Barbara hadn't really felt like sleeping last night. Besides, this was Diane's apartment, and therefore it was her bed. It was only right she had the first claim on it. Barbara was more than content to take the sofa for the night, even if she didn't plan on sleeping.

The sofa itself was a simple black leather one. Almost like something out of a designer magazine, being sleek and rather fashionable in style, and tying in with the décor of the place. Unfortunately, what it had in style, it lacked in comfort. God. This thing had to be made of rock. The thin cushions had left Barbara wondering if she'd have been better off on the floor.

However, it seemed the exhaustion had been too much for her. After everything that had happened the day before, Barbara was more tired than she thought. As she lay there, covered in a throw, and lying against the flat sofa, she felt her eyelids beginning to droop. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep her eyelids from fluttering shut. Eventually, Barbara had surrendered herself to her urge, and sunk into a state of unconsciousness sometime in the early hours of the morning. She had awoken though, relatively soon again, with a sense of unease.

How could she sleep comfortably when Gotham was under the control of terrorists? Her body physically shook with horror at the thought.

It had only been a day since the destruction of Gotham. Yet, after a long night, it seemed as if people had vanished completely. No one could be seen moving or walking around outside. Bane really does have control of the city Barbara thought morbidly, peering from behind the curtains at the streets outside.

Barbara had tried to find some other way to occupy herself, instinctively reaching for the stacks of paperwork lying about the place to try and work away her nerves but, what was the point? It wasn't as if she was still going to be due in court with Diane in a few hours.

Instead, she'd elected to shower and get dressed in some of Diane's old clothes, that she'd found in a drawer. Upon examining herself in the mirror she concluded that they were a little big on her. Probably due to Diane's extra few centimetres in height compared to Barbara, but still they fit decently on her.

All morning her thoughts had been elsewhere - mainly with her Father. She only prayed that he was alright. She reached for the phone in her pocket and dialed again, waiting as the rings echoed in her ear. Unfortunately, there was no reply.

She cursed. Damn her Dad, disappearing off the face of the earth without any word. Despite Diane only being a few rooms away, she felt more alone than she had in a while.

She rubbed a weary hand down her face. She had an idea of where her Dad was. She just hoped he'd call her soon.

Before she could say anything else there was a small sound of shuffling from behind her as a sleepy looking Diane emerged from her room, dressing in a floppy sports shirt that barely grazed her knees. Barbara smirked at her friend's bleary eyes and static hair. It was such a difference from the courtroom Diane she was accustomed to.

"Morning," Diane croaked softly walking to the kettle and beginning to run water into the large metal container. "I need coffee –fast; I didn't sleep last night. Not a wink."

"Me neither," Barbara offered, turning around and leaning over the back of the sofa. "I must have dropped off somewhere around three?" she continued running hands through her damp hair.

Diane laughed lightly, flicking the switch on the side and watching as the kettle began to boil. "Lucky you," she smirked. "I heard something that sounded like a tank drive by, woke me up. Haven't been able to get back off since."

Both of the girls stopped and looked at each other sympathetically. Neither was clearly doing very well.

Diane paused and rested her hands against the edge of the marble countertops, watching as the water continued to boil, a thin trickle of steam now escaping the spout. She seemed to be thinking. "Is that my shirt?" she asked after a moment, breaking the silence that had fallen and looking at her friend with a veiled smile.

"Yeah." Barbara smirked a little as she answered. She glanced consciously down at the green blouse she was wearing. It was such a 'Diane' thing to wear, it was almost funny. She didn't even think she owned anything like this back home. T-shirts and plaid was more her thing. Silks and chiffon were Diane's. Diane was just a lot more confident with her body.

"Looks good on you."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. I always said green suited you."

They both laughed a little.

This was so weirdly normal. It almost felt wrong. It was clear they had both thought the same thing by the way their laughter trailed off, being replaced instead, with an empty silence as either one tried to think of something to say – and failed.

"So, any news? About your father?" Diane offered. She reached forward and took the kettle in her hand, tilting it over her mug letting the water cascade down over the coffee powder.

Barbara gulped, biting her lip anxiously. She could smell the caffeine and instant coffee from across the room. It was clear what her answer was. She only had to hope her father had made it out of the hospital ok.

Diane sighed softly in return, dropping the topic at her friend's silent response. Instead, she grabbed an extra mug and poured the water into that as well, tipping in the coffee granules from the jar.

"Coffee?" she offered, almost as a comforting gesture.

"Please," Barbara replied gratefully, leaning back against the cushions behind her.

Diane glanced at her friend sadly and returned back to her cups. She stirred both slowly with a teaspoon, clanging it against the sides before strolling over to Barbara, mug in either hand. Barbara smiled warmly at the sight, reaching out to take hers from Diane. The warm ceramic mug felt good in her hands. She clutched it a little tighter, scooching over to allow her friend room to sit beside her.

She sighed. Now what?

"What do you want to do today?"

Barbara stopped the cup millimetres from her lips. The question had caught her off guard entirely. "What?"

Diane shook her head, taking a small sip from her own cup. "Well, we don't exactly have to work today, do we? So what are we supposed to do all day?"

Barbara stopped again. That thought had never occurred to her before. What was she meant to do all day? Sit around and wait for something to happen? She'd already gone stir crazy sitting around this morning. A whole day of it? She would go insane, she knew it.

"How are we doing on food?" Barbara asked slowly, clicking her neck from side to side and stretching her sore limbs out again. She took a gulp, feeling better instantly for the taste of coffee, and the feeling of caffeine in her system.

"I don't know. I'll check, shall I?" Diane groaned, getting back up, placing her mug down on the coffee table. Barbara heard the footsteps retreating across the floorboards and striding back towards the kitchen. It was followed by the sound of cupboards being opened and tins being moved about.

Diane stretched her arms up, scanning the contents quickly. She rummaged through her cupboard desperately, foraging for supplies.

If Bane had cut them off there was no telling how long supplies would last. Food would become scarce very quickly. Barbara wanted to see how much time they had.

"Probably enough for about a week - two, at most. Why?"

"I'm going to run out and get some supplies. There's a store a couple blocks from here and I can get the stuff from there," Barbara explained, formulating a plan in her head. She took another long gulp and put her mug down.

"Woah, Woah, Woah," Diane began suddenly, turning around and staring at her friend like she'd grown another head. "Are you insane? You can't go out there! In case you hadn't seen there are terrorists – with tanks - I might add, rolling about the place."

Barbara got to her feet and rolled her eyes. "Well, I can't just sit here. Think about this logically Diane. Food is going to become scarce pretty soon, I need to get out there whilst everyone's busy. It's an ideal time, ok? I'll be back in no time," she reasoned, walking towards the front door.

Diane shook her head. "You know, if this is because you're bored I do have an Xbox," she offered, pointing towards the TV that sat in the corner of the room.

Barbara couldn't help but laugh at her friend's comment. She reached up to the half-dismantled coat hook and pulled on her thick blue coat and gloves. "Diane… come on. It's only running to the store, ok? I'll be fine. Dad made me take self-defence lessons my entire life."

Diane paused skeptically, biting her lower lip in thought. "I don't know, Babs. It's too risky."

Barbara shot Diane a small smile. "When's that ever stopped me?... Look, if I'm not back in an hour or two, call Blake."

Diane obviously considered the option as she stopped, tilting her head a little. At last, she answered. "You have yourself a deal - I'm timing you, Barbara Gordon," she warned tapping her wrist for emphasis.

"Didn't expect any less," Barbara giggled, slowly removing the chain and pulling back the door. With a cautious sweep of the empty hallway, she slipped out into the new world.

* * *

She was lucky. No one was in sight. She made it all the way out the building and down the street without being spotted. That, however, didn't stop her from pressing against the buildings, clouding herself in the shadows as she went.

It was weird.

This still looked like Gotham.

Her Gotham.

The city she'd known her whole life.

Yet it wasn't. It was as if overnight it had changed into a scene from one of her books. No life, just empty cars, and fires greeted her. She was alone; like she was the only person that existed. As the faint sunlight hit her face she paused and smiled, tilting her face up to the light.

Should she be afraid of her city now? No. She was Barbara Gordon. This was Gotham. Her city. The city she had loved and served her whole life. It still was… somewhere deep in its heart. It was.

Barbara continued crawling along the street, maneuvering cautiously between empty vehicles, sheltering in alleyways and dashing down empty streets. Finally, she reached it.

Up ahead she could see the empty and deserted building that was Hardy's local shop. The once vibrant red paint was now faded and flaked at the slightest touch. The windows cracked and boarded up with old wooden boards.

Barbara slowed her pace, assessing the shop for a possible entrance. The door was of course locked, a 'closed' sign suspended in clear view.

She paused, peering against the glass into the darkness. She could see full shelves, sitting there. Full of food and supplies.

Bingo.

With a small glance around she reached up and pulled at the wooden boards, watching as they creaked, pulling the nails from their place in the wall. Within moments of her work, she had cleared a window and with a hesitant smile, smashed her way in. The glass shattered, cascading into a pile of shards at her feet.

Success.

Barbara kicked the shards aside and stepped inside.

This was all hers for the taking. Which was weird… she'd never stolen anything in her life before. Being the Police Commissioner's daughter had tended to mean that she had a squeaky clean life. Even as a child, right and wrong were the two main principles in her life. She remembered one time when she was fifteen, she and her friend Pamela had snuck off to a party at one of the bigger kid's houses. The kid had been in high school and had stolen a load of alcohol for the occasion. Nearly everyone had been wasted. Except for her and Pam though. She remembered how angry her Dad had been; particularly that she'd disobeyed him by going. She hadn't been the kids with the alcohol though- that had been interesting to watch. Regardless, this was more important.

She hurried inside and grabbed some of the paper bags from behind the counter. She then proceeded to the shelves, filling them with everything she could. It was only a few minutes later that she realised she couldn't carry anymore so decided to call it quits.

However, as she turned to leave she realised she could hear voices. Hushed voices, coming quickly in her direction. She didn't know if it was instinct or not but she was suddenly terrified.

Immediately she grabbed her bags and darted behind the larger of the selves pressed against the wall. She wedged inside, dumping the resources and herself, concealed behind a mountain of goods. This was the nearest place to hide.

It seemed her instincts had been correct, as seconds later she stopped, watching as two men strolled past where she'd been standing moments ago. Both were carrying intimidating shotguns.

Barbara remained perfectly still and quiet. Maybe they wouldn't notice her. She wondered how they'd gotten in here. Maybe there was an entrance out back she didn't know about. Whatever the reason she didn't want to be seen.

After a few minutes, they vanished and all seemed quiet. Thankfully.

Seizing her chance, she dashed out from behind the wall, carrying her bags and darting back to Diane's.

Barbara took the steps two at a time and bolted back towards the apartment door. She knocked hastily, hating being out in the open.

"Diane?" Barbara demanded, looking at the small, round glass peephole. "Open up."

There was shuffling and clicking as the chain and lock were removed, allowing her access inside.

"Cutting it close Babs," Diane smiled, watching her friend dash inside, depositing her prizes on the table. "Nearly called your Dad on you."

Barbara didn't reply. She was panting heavily as she dropped to the floor, her back against the back of the sofa. She sighed, removing her gloves as she did so. "That. Was. Close," she managed. "Two goons came in as I was leaving."

Diane stopped, eyes suddenly searching Barbara in concern. "Did they see you?" she asked, her voice rising in panic. Was Barbara hurt? She didn't seem to be. She just seemed out of breath.

Barbara shook her head. "No. I got out of there sharpish."

"Good," Diane nodded, crossing her arms and sitting beside Barbara. "By the way, a Detective Blake rang for you. Said he'd be here soon and that we should expect him."

Barbara stopped. "Really?" She couldn't express any emotion to the statement. Her Dad would be here soon. Thank god.

"Yep," Diane assured.

Barbara looked at her friend and realised she was dressed. She smiled. "Good."

Everything seemed to be ok. Everything was coming into place.

"Oh and your Mom called too, she was worried."

Barbara groaned. "Never mind. I'll call her in a bit," she whispered wiping her forehead. "Let's just put the stuff away for now." She didn't want to even think about her Mom right now. She was probably worried sick. For some reason, Barbara felt herself shaking. The adrenaline was clearly still pumping around her body.

Diane got to her feet. "Sure thing. I'm really hoping you got cake by the way."

And despite everything- Barbara laughed.

* * *

Luckily, it was only about an hour later when they heard the knock on the door. As soon as Barbara heard the door rattle she leaped to her feet, saying a silent 'thank you' to whoever was listening and reached for the locks. She peered through the peephole first, checking the coast was clear. They couldn't take the chance, not after everything that was happening.

Sure enough, though, she saw none other than Detective Blake in the hallway, her father resting on him for support. She opened the door and ushered them inside the apartment hastily.

"Dad," she gulped, her voice breaking as she saw her father alive and well before her. Borrowed clothes replaced Gordon's hospital gown and they fit... ish. It was clear they'd been given to him by Blake. Barbara was more than grateful and threw herself toward her father.

Gordon looked at his daughter softly, pulling her close, wincing a little at her tight grip, brushing the hair off her forehead in a soothing gesture like he'd done so many times before when she was little. "It's ok, honey. I'm alright," he whispered, "I'm here now."

Barbara took the words gratefully and savoured the moment as she heard the door shut. "I was so worried," she whispered.

"I know."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

There was a moment of silence, until Barbara released her father, stepping back awkwardly as she realised they weren't exactly alone.

"It's good to see you're both alright," Diane interjected smoothly, breaking the mood with a smile. "Good to see you again, Blake."

"You too, Diane," Blake responded kindly, giving a small nod. It wasn't the first time they'd met, although the smile Diane gave him made Barbara want to smother her under a pillow.

Her father clearly missed the look Barbara was shooting Diane by the way he coughed, slipping off his coat. Barbara took her father's arm and aided him smoothly over to the sofa, as much as he muttered under his breath reluctantly about being able to manage himself. She wasn't risking it, not after everything. It was a miracle they were all ok. She wasn't about to push their luck, what little they had.

"Thanks," Barbara breathed, looking across at Blake, who stood, awkwardly to the side near Diane. "I mean it… I owe you so much. How can I ever repay you for saving my Dad twice now?"

Blake chuckled lightly, a faint red tinge to his cheeks, which Barbara almost took as embarrassment. He scratched the back of his neck and lowered his eyes to the floor for a moment. "It's becoming a habit."

"Yeah," Barbara smirked gently. "But thanks …"

Blake nodded. "Anytime."

Diane's apartment was small. She had never expected to entertain the Police Commissioner, but life was full of surprises these days it seemed.

The current four tenants were all sat in the front room. Gordon rested on the lumpy sofa Diane had adopted in the centre of her living room, Barbara sat beside him. Diane was perched on the edge of the window sill next to them, whilst Blake stood in front, pacing as he spoke to them.

"We're going to keep moving you," Blake began calmly, looking at the Commissioner as he did. Somehow he seemed to have taken on the managerial role of the group, but no one seemed to have a problem with it. "Till we can get you in front of a camera."

"I agree. It's not safe here," Barbara piped up. "We need to get somewhere out of sight."

"Where?" Diane piped up. "Does anybody know anywhere safe we could head for a while? This city's gone crazy. I don't know anywhere we'd be safe."

It was Barbara's father that supplied an answer to that, slowly sitting up on the sofa with a small groan. "There are several safe houses in the city… designed for undercover cops. No one knows where they are except a small handful of people."

That got their attention.

Blake paused and looked at the man before him. "Where's the nearest one?"

"Not too far."

It was Barbara's turn to ask a question. "How many people know about it? Is it safe?"

He merely nodded calmly, scratching his chin in thought. "It's safe. Only three people know about it."

Diane shrugged casually from the window ledge, swiveling herself so that her legs hung off the edge, brushing the floor with her toes. By the expression on her face, Barbara knew what she was going to say. "Sounds like a plan."

Barbara didn't know what to say. Her father seemed sure, as did Diane. But she wasn't. She looked at Blake and felt reassured to see the crease of concern written into his brow. He bit his lip but nodded after a moment more of consideration.

"Agreed." He turned, looking at the clock on the wall, and paused. "If you guys grabbed your stuff, when do you think you'd be ready to move?"

"Hour – at most," Diane interjected. "But shouldn't we wait till morning? Moving at night won't be smart, not with Bane's men and patrols."

"We stay here then," Gordon added smoothly, shrugging lightly. "Move in the morning."

Blake nodded firmly. Leading was a role he suited well. "That's the best move for us."

Barbara just stared, surprised by the lack of noise she was making. Why wasn't she talking? Planning? Even objecting would be better than sitting there in stunned silence. Maybe it was the fact she wasn't even sure what was happening right now. Her body had just stopped cooperating with her, leaving her in helpless silence as her friends and allies planned. What was wrong with her?

She ran a hand through her hair shakily, and stood up without another word, heading to the bedroom. She heard Diane follow hastily, springing to her feet. Luckily for her, she didn't say a word, not till the bedroom door was closed behind the two of them. Even then, it took a minute for Barbara to even open her lips.

Diane just waited patiently, arms crossed over her chest as she perched on the edge of the bed.

"Babs?"

Barbara gulped. "I'm freaking out, Di. I'm freaking out."

"Finally – the cool cucumber act was a little scary," Diane murmured, watching as Barbara begun pacing. However, the sudden glare she received told her joking wasn't a great idea at the moment. "Sorry."

Barbara didn't say anything back. She just kept pacing, feeling her heart pounding within her as if it were about to explode. She closed her eyes, and turned, finally perching beside Diane, making the bed sag under her weight. It was better than wearing holes in the floor.

Diane just smiled weakly, and slid an arm around Barbara, rubbing it up and down her arm soothingly. It was odd how comforting Barbara found the gesture. It made everything feel just a little better, for a moment, long enough for her to hear Diane.

"We'll be ok, Babs. Promise."

"How can you though?" Barbara murmured, taking another deep breath. She didn't even think about her father, or Blake, who probably were pretty concerned about her right now.

"I have faith," Diane breathed, almost as if that was obvious. "So should you."

Barbara didn't have the heart to do anything other than nod. Faith? With everything crashing around her, Diane wanted her to have faith? Barbara had always had faith in her life, and look where it got her; still stuck in Diane's apartment, surrounded by terrorists and a warlord.

Maybe faith wasn't enough. Not anymore.

* * *

Gordon continued staring gravely at the small television screen that hung off the wall opposite. He'd been doing that all morning. He hadn't slept well… his body ached all over and worry plagued him. How could he sleep when his city was in danger?

Lives were in danger, and here he was; forced to sit and watch as a madman took control. It felt like the worst possible torture.

After giving up on sleep last night, he'd turned on the TV, interested to see what was happening in the outside world. What had greeted him hadn't been pleasant.

Blake looked over from the kitchen where he stood finishing packing the last of the supplies, interested to see what had to Commissioner's attention so firmly. The Commissioner had been listening to the TV for the last few minutes. He probably didn't know Blake was here. He'd been in a daze since yesterday. So had Barbara - if Blake was being honest. He hadn't seen her since her hasty exit from their meeting last night. He didn't know what was wrong. He wished he could help more than this.

Barbara was a good friend, and Diane too seemed nice. She was exactly as Barbara had described her, and Blake was glad of it. It was nice to have a sense of humour with them, even if it was also someone Barbara could talk to.

He sighed, shaking the thoughts from his head.

Blake instead noticed the figure promenading across the screen. Bane. He seemed to be delivering a speech. The sight made Blake feel ill. Bane, it seemed, was becoming something of a normal sight. Unfortunately.

The masked maniac was setting alight a photo of a familiar figure. Harvey Dent. His voice boomed from the screen.

Blake stopped, waiting for some reaction from the man behind him. Nothing.

"But they supplied you with a false idol," the lunatic said smoothly, commanding his audience with every word. "A straw man to placate you. To stop you from tearing down this corrupt city…"

Blake paused. Where's he going with this? He thought quietly. He looked back at the Commissioner and stopped. Gordon looked sickened. Blake wondered why. It'd been a long night for them all.

However, his attention was drawn back to the screen quickly.

"And rebuilding it the way it should have rebuilt, generations ago." Bane continued.

Bane quickly dropped the burning photograph and watched as the ashes fell to the ground in front of a terrifyingly large tank. "Let me tell you the truth about Harvey Dent, in the words of our very own police Commissioner – James Gordon."

Blake stared at Gordon again. This wasn't good. What was happening? Gordon shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, raising Blake's suspicions. What was Bane trying to pull here?

Onscreen, the mercenary revealed a large set of papers from his coat pocket and began reading. "The truth about Harvey Dent is simple in only one regard- it has been hidden for too long. After his devastating injuries, Harvey's mind recovered no better than his mutilated face. He was a broken, dangerous man, not the crusader for justice that I, James Gordon, have portrayed him to be these last eight years. Harvey's range was indiscriminate. Psychopathic. He held my family at gunpoint, then fell to his death in the struggle for my daughter's life. The Batman did not murder Harvey Dent. He saved my boy and my little girl."

Blake stared aghast at the screen. This wasn't true? Was it?

"Then Batman took the blame for Harvey's appalling crimes, so that I, to my shame, build a lie around this fallen idol."

Gordon lowered his face into his hands. He knew he should have burnt that stupid speech.

"I praised the madman that tried to murder my own children. The things we did in Harvey's name brought much-needed security to our streets. But I can no longer live with my lie. It is time to trust the people of Gotham with the truth, and it is time for me to resign." Bane called out to the people around him, "Do you accept this man's resignation?"

A small cry of "Yes!" began, building with each passing second.

"Do you accept the resignation of all the liars?" Bane demanded. "Of all the corrupt?"

"YES!" the chorus continued, louder with each second.

Blake looked away in disgust, his eyes travelling to the guilty looking Commissioner. That was all the proof he needed. "Those men, locked up in Black Gate for eight years, denied parole under the Dent Act," he said flatly. "Suspects held indefinitely without trial. Based on a lie."

"A lie to keep a city on fire from burning to the ground," Gordon began, looking at the young detective. "Gotham needed a hero, someone to believe in-"

"Not as much as it does now," Blake snapped harshly. "But you betrayed everything you stood for."

Gordon gave him a tired look. "There's a point, far out there, where the structures fail you. When the rules aren't weapons anymore, they're shackles, letting the bad get ahead. Maybe one day you'll have such a moment of crisis." He sounded tired and sad. "And in that moment I hope you have a friend like I did. To plunge their hands into the filth so yours can stay clean."

Disillusioned, Blake was in no mood to grant the man absolution. "Your hands look plenty filthy to me Commissioner."

Gordon sighed in defeat. He didn't fight back.

* * *

Barbara had heard the commotion from the room next door. She had heard Bane's voice from the screen and the trouble that followed it. She didn't know what to think. It had been her father's speech. The speech she'd wished he'd spoken on Dent day. Well, it was too late now. They all finally knew the truth, but it was ruined; lost behind the deception and lies that had plagued this city for so long. Barbara knew she should have been happy- the truth was finally out there- but she couldn't be.

She pulled on some of the clothes she found in a drawer and wandered into the tiny lounge, where Blake and her father were. Diane still lay in the bed, asleep through it all. Barbara didn't have the heart to wake her, not yet.

Neither of the men gave her any notice as she disturbed their domestic, storming into the lounge with determination.

"You want answers," Gordon began softly, giving Blake a pained look. "I know that."

Blake didn't reply. Instead, he stared at the man before him and shook his head. "Oh?" he managed after a second. "You do? Then why won't you give me any? I just want to know how a man betrays all he values without a second's thought."

Barbara felt her inside's squirm at the assault on her father. She could tell by his face he was wounded. She had seen first-hand the struggle he had endured yearly. There was no way Blake could truly know what it had been like for the two of them. Yet she was angry that Blake spoke to her father like that.

He had no right.

Blake turned to storm out. He didn't get very far though. Barbara marched over to him and gripping his arm, yanking him round to face her.

He stumbled back a little from the surprise, as she drove him backward a step and pinned him against the wall. She heard her father, cry out in surprise at her sudden attack.

"Barbara!"

It didn't stop her though. Her rage was just too strong. She'd had enough with the judgment. She only just noticed Diane out of the corner of her eye, hurrying to the room in all the commotion, still in her pajamas.

"How dare you," she snapped at him. "You think that because you've suffered, you have any right to judge someone else? You weren't there! You didn't see what happened! You don't know what my father and I have had to go through year after year."

Blake stared at her, slack-jawed, as she released him, stepping back and folding her arms across her chest. Her voice sounded smaller somehow, younger.

"My brother, my mother… we all almost died that night. Dent went insane. A supposedly good man took us and tried to kill us all in the name of getting his vengeance. He flipped a coin like it was some sick game. Yet… Batman… the Batman came and saved us… he saved me when I nearly fell to my death, caught in that sick bastard Dent's scheme." She choked on a sob and her hand flew to her mouth.

She almost missed Blake's hand rest weakly on her arm. She brushed him away. She didn't need the pity. What she needed was for someone other than her father to hear the story, to look at her like she wasn't crazy for believing what she did.

"He made a sacrifice that night, him and my father… to save Gotham." She turned to face Blake, chin held high. "You can say what you want, but you know what they did that night was the right thing to do. They gave Gotham what it needed to survive. No matter what it cost them both these past years."

"Babara-" he began, but she cut him off.

"Don't say anything. Don't. Just don't judge him for having to make the tough call when no one else could," she sniped, pointing to her father, sat weakly behind her.

The grief as she told the story was written across his face as the night came back to haunt him the way it did every year.

"My father is a good man; one of the best in this city. So was the Batman."

The corner of Blake's lip twitched upwards, and slowly, he nodded. The tension in the room had slowly disappeared as Barbara had unleashed her inner fury. The four of them stood in silence, staring the others down as they struggled to find the words to finish this topic of conversation.

"I'm sorry," he managed after a moment.

Barbara nodded slowly, as if getting herself together again. "We… we should move…"

"Yeah…" was all Blake managed, clearly deciding to follow her lead rather than push his luck further. "If we're all … sorted?"

Diane stopped and gestured behind her with a faint smile. "I'll put on some pants then."

"Good. Let's get out of here."


	10. Chapter 9

_**Hi there folks. Sorry for the slight delay with this chapter but it's been pretty crazy the past few weeks what with moving back to university and settling back into actually trying to be an adult again. It means I haven't had as much time as I normally do to write and edit this, so apologies for any errors in advance! However, it's a nice long chapter to make up for it so hopefully, you'll all forgive me. We're also edging closer to the action that's coming in the next chapters - so hold on for that, as I'm actually pretty excited about it and I'm working on that as we speak.**_

 _ **As usual, thanks for reading this and feel free to follow,** **favourite** **, review or message me. Nothing is too small - I literally live for your feedback. Thesilentmage xxx**_

* * *

The hot-wired car wove through the backstreets in tense silence, broken only by Blake's fingers tapping against the steering wheel and the occasional cough from Gordon. With her Dad sat shotgun, Barbara sat in the back, Diane beside her.

As they drove, Barbara couldn't help it as she dozed off during the short journey to the GCPD safe house. The steady rhythm of the car on the road was soothing, and the night without decent sleep took its toll. Barbra didn't have the energy to fight it as her eyelids fluttered shut, and her head tilted against the icy window pane. The heating was also making it snug inside the vehicle. Who was she to deny herself a little sleep?

The safe house itself was an apartment in one of the calmer districts, to the north of Gotham, with a couple of bedrooms and- most importantly- it was safe. The sooner they got there the better.

Half an hour later, woken by the gentle voice of her father, Barbara exited the vehicle and stumbled her way inside the security of the safe house. She wiped the sleep from her eyes with her sleeve, attempting to look more alert than she felt.

Every step inside the building felt like a knife in her heart. As she cast one last look behind her at the street, she didn't know when she'd next be on it. Who knew how long this whole thing would go on for? Who knew how it would end? At least they'd be safe for now, hidden away in this apartment, but even she couldn't hide to bitterness in her stomach at the fact they were hiding. Bane. He was still out there. He would remain if no one did anything. You didn't have to be Einstein to know no one would.

With a sigh, she turned back to the stairs, carried on upwards, and left it behind for now. Gotham was alone.

* * *

The next few weeks were strange for Barbara. Life went on, but in a different way than it ever had before. No longer did any of them have the usual restrictions of work to occupy them, instead they were burdened with endless free time, but nowhere else to spend it than inside the walls of the safe house, which drove them all insane.

As the weeks went by, things grew worse outside. Every day, more and more blocks were lost to thieves, gangs, and Bane's men, who all slowly wormed their way into the heart of the city. You couldn't even walk down the street without seeing one of them stare back at you, with an expression that was enough to send shivers down your spine. It drove Barbara to the point of despair. She hated being trapped, and powerless – two things she was. It was why she did anything she could to keep herself occupied. Obviously, this meant eventually breaking free of their confines.

For Barbara, it was her daily walk downtown to the nearest checkpoint that Bane's men had established, to provide the city with its much-needed goods. It was an old school house that was their base. All over the city, they had erected similar structures, where men, armed to the teeth, would wait for the desperate masses to flock. It was then that the people all had to show their I.D. and collect their allotted supplies, all part of the charade that seemed to appear as if Bane was their benevolent saviour – not the man that had put them in this vulnerable position.

She, Blake, and sometimes even Diane, would head down there, collecting their rations and supplies. Barbara would let Diane and Blake handle the actual collecting as it was too much of a risk – in their eyes – of being noticed by one of Bane's men, especially as the checks got stricter and stricter. The last thing they needed was her getting caught, and to lead them back to her father. Instead, Barbara would spend the time, walking and talking amongst the crowds. It was surprising what she learned about where people had been seen, where men were positioned, rumours that had been heard... it was their hive of knowledge, and in this dark time, knowledge was power.

But back at the safe house, most days would be spent making plans. Her father, in his agitated state, refused to sit idly by while Gotham suffered. So, he would stick to the rooftop, watching, marking men and routines he noticed in the surrounding areas. He would also organise the three of them to routines, patrolling nearby homes, seeing what they could do to help those they could.

It sounded silly, but it was all they could do. There was no Batman. There was no one else to help them. They were truly alone; a fact that became clearer with each passing moment.

Barbara hated it.

* * *

One morning things began to change.

The four members of the house had all been up a while. None of them slept so well anymore, but they didn't say anything about it. It went unspoken, a mere side effect of their new lives. Still, they all tried, tried to be positive, tried to be optimistic. Something had to give… right?

That morning, it seemed as if Blake had had enough. It was clear on his face, and by the way, he hadn't said a word all morning. He merely paced about, doing odd things like picking up books that he swore he'd already read a thousand times or rifling through the mediocre stack of DVD's by the TV as if trying to occupy himself, but failing at every try.

Barbara watched curiously from where she sat, a cup of tea in hand, in the kitchen. She understood it, the cabin fever that seemed all too overwhelming, now more than ever. She took a slow sip and tried to figure out the right words to say. Like him, she failed spectacularly.

Blake eventually strolled into the kitchen and opened his mouth to speak after a moment, but stopped. Instead, he stormed into his bedroom and grabbed some shoes and a jacket.

Barbara raised an eyebrow and went to call after him. Luckily, she didn't have to. He reappeared almost instantly in the doorway.

"I need some air," he sighed, almost declaring it to her.

"And where do you think you're going?" her father croaked.

Barbara paused for a moment and watched the two of them. She hadn't even heard her father enter the kitchen behind her. Yet, he approached, helping himself to a mug of the freshly brewed tea that sat on the table.

"I'm going to run some supplies over to St Swithin's boys' home. I need the air and it's not that far from here- not that I need your permission anyway." His tone was heavy and Barbara could see he meant it. Nevertheless, it was dangerous outside right now. He couldn't go out there alone.

Barbara slowly got to her feet, and took a step towards him. She reached to the counter in front of her, snatching the awaiting bag of supplies sat there. "Get your gun," she muttered, throwing half of her supplies at him and turning to give her father a soft look. "I'm coming with you."

"What?" they both interjected suddenly.

Barbara rolled her eyes as she faced them. Seriously? When would they stop acting like she was going to break in two, just from mentioning Bane? They looked scarily alike, with their concerned eyes, and anxious frowns. It was unnerving.

"It's too dangerous for him to go alone," she started, as if it were obvious. "Besides, Diane can keep an eye on things here, once she gets out the shower, till we get back," she explained smoothly, grabbing her own coat and shoes.

Her father frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "And what am I, then? A damn coat rack?"

"I can do it alone," Blake protested, but only weakly.

"Doesn't mean you should have to," Barbara countered firmly. She stared at her father briefly, sliding her jacket on. "And Dad, you're still recovering, ok? Don't push it."

The look her father shot her told Barbara he seriously was considering pushing it. He didn't like being cooped up any more than she did, but she knew he also worried.

Barbara watched as Blake gazed towards her father slowly, as if waiting on his opinion how to proceed.

After a short silence, her father assented, but only just. The way he sighed told Barbara it was a narrow victory.

"Be careful," he said, narrowing his eyes as he did, leaning back against the marble counter top.

She was sure he wouldn't let her go if it hadn't been so close to where they were. She would talk to him about this all, soon, but not yet. Now wasn't the time. They couldn't fight each other when they had so much else to deal with. She just took her victory – it was enough for now.

"Let's go then," she replied cheerfully, waiting for Blake to join her by the door, supply bags in hand.

They didn't have much, just spare food, books, and some old clothes that they'd located from one of the spare closets in the apartment. It wasn't exactly lots, but Barbara knew the home would be grateful for it regardless, especially now, when resources were becoming more and more scarce.

Blake went to open the door, but Barbara hastily reached down and opened it for him. She shot him a playful smirk, which she was relieved to see him return.

"After you."

"Thanks," he breathed, brushing past her and into the hallway. Barbara gave her father one last look, waving goodbye as she closed the door behind them, hearing as he called out to them to be careful. It kind of went without saying.

With that, they left.

* * *

She hadn't been to St. Swithins in a while. Sure, as she'd said before, she'd helped out at the centre often in the past. It had been her school's idea, setting each of their students up with a community assistance project. Most of her year had been given things like trash picking, or helping at the local community centre. Barbara had been given St. Swithins to assist with, once a week for two months a couple summers back. Needless to say, she'd enjoyed helping there. Enough to keep coming back, even after her placement was over.

It seemed so long since she'd been back here. By the look on Blake's face as she glanced at him, he felt the same. He looked tense, and there seemed a look of haunting in his eyes that told her he felt funny coming here. She wasn't sure why.

"You ok?" she asked, walking down the street, Blake matching her pace.

Blake nodded slowly, glancing at her as they walked. "I'm fine, promise."

"You don't look fine."

"I just… I needed some air- that safe-house was getting too small for me, and I haven't been here in a while; that's all."

Barbara felt like slapping herself. How could she have forgotten?

"Not since telling them about Jimmy… I forgot," she whispered, the puzzle being solved for her. She'd even been there. It had been the first time they'd met, back in her Dad's office, when he'd thought she'd been snooping. Blake was on his way to tell the home he'd found one of the boys dead, in the sewers. It was funny he'd been the one to suggest coming here then if he was awkward about the place. Was he that desperate for some fresh air? "And if it helps I was getting a pretty bad case of cabin fever too."

"Yeah," Blake murmured softly, not quite meeting her eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck, before continuing with his answer. He seemed surprisingly nervous, and Barbara didn't know why. "But I… I used to live here. I was one of the foster kids Swithins looked after."

Now she understood. Why had he been nervous about telling her that? It didn't change what she thought about him; that he was a good, kind guy. So he'd come from a home?

"You… you never said. I mean… you didn't mention any family these past few weeks."

"Yeah… I lost my Mom when I was a kid," Blake explained, looking down the street at the empty road ahead. "I lost my Dad years later. I was old enough to remember that one, but Swithins? They took me in. I grew up here, happy and safe. I just want to do what I can for them. You know?"

"I understand," Barbara nodded; she really did. Family was important in life. People deserved to have a loving one to support them when times were tough. Swithins were his family, and right now, he was worried. Just as she worried about him, and Diane, and her father, back at the apartment. It was natural. Still, she tilted her head a little in thought, her pace slowing ever so slightly. "They're your family. Family stick together, as do friends - which we are, Blake. Or we better be considering we've been living together these past weeks. I don't just let anybody steal my hot water."

Blake's face brightened a little, but Barbara saw it. She also noticed the way his lips thinly quirked upwards in a smile. "I'm glad you get it," Blake chuckled, gesturing to the building up ahead. Barbara looked up, and realised they'd arrived. "Because these lot can get a little crazy."

"Tell me about it," she sniggered.

Like that, the mood between them eased, as both started up the front steps, and knocked on the old wooden door, waiting for a reply. Luckily, they were only stood there a moment, hoods up against the wind that whipped down the street. Almost instantly, the door opened a crack, the sound of locks being undone, and chains being drawn back echoing out.

As soon as the door opened, though only a little, a face appeared, that of a young teenage boy, who glanced out at them curiously. Yet, as soon as his soft green eyes saw who they were he opened the door widely, almost pulling them inside in his excitement.

"Blake!" he beamed, as they stepped inside, lowering their hoods once the door was shut again. Dangerous times meant taking a few extra precautions. By the locks Barbara noticed on the door, a few wasn't quite the word. Swithins wasn't taking any chances.

"Hey Adam," Blake greeted, smiling at the kid in recognition. "How you doing?"

Adam Santiago was familiar to Barbara, and apparently Blake too. He was a young kid of about thirteen, with messy black hair that never looked brushed, and a smile that seemed almost too big for his face. He had been at Swithins for some years, as long as Barbara had been coming at least. She knew from Father Reilly that he'd been here longer, along with his older brother Dean. Their parents had died in a car crash, but both boys were cheerful. They were some of the more confident children Swithins housed. Needless to say, they were easy to get along with.

"Good," Adam replied, bouncing a little as he stood there. "You here to play soccer?"

Blake smirked, ruffling the kid's hair. "Not today, Adam. We came to see Father Reilly." Yet, the frown that Adam displayed instantly drove itself right into Blake's heart. His face softened and he glanced weakly at Barbara, who was merely smiling. Adam was pretty good at getting what he wanted. He was quite the little actor - that much she knew. Poor Blake. He simply shrugged, and winked at the kid, who was executing a brilliant puppy-eyes, even if she said so herself. "Well… Who knows? Maybe I can play later."

Adam immediately grinned, smug with the victory. He turned his head and shared his smile as he noticed Barbara, stood beside him. "Hi, Miss Gordon," he began oh-so-politely.

 _Nice try_ she thought internally. As if she bought the angelic child act. She knew him too well for that. "Hi Adam," she chuckled. "Since when do you call me Miss Gordon? Call me Babs."

"You want to play soccer later, Babs?"

She nodded. "Sure. Maybe in a bit. I can kick your ass again."

"That was one time!" Adam shot back, turning suddenly and bolting back up the stairs beside them in a mad blur.

"Adam – no running in the halls!" came the sudden authoritative voice, echoing down the stairs but Adam didn't seem to care. He just kept running, giggling as he did.

Barbara looked up sharply, knowing exactly who it was. Father Reilly. He looked well, all things considered, wrapped in a thick sweater, and beaming as he took in the two people stood by the door. "John," he cooed, descending to join them. His arms opened and he took him into his arms kindly. It warmed Barbara's heart.

"Father," Blake greeted, beaming as he hugged the man back.

Father Reilly stepped back and turned to smile at her, repeating his routine. She was more than accustomed to it by now. "And Barbara? It's good to see you, my dear."

"You too, Father. It's been too long."

Father Reilly sighed, shaking his head as he did. "Alas, that is not of your doing. What are you doing here?"

It was Blake that answered. "Came to check up on you… How are the boys doing? How's everyone holding up?"

"We manage, and we get by. Certainly, no midnight snacks for the kids anymore but they're coping."

"Well, we can't fix that but we can help a little. We know it isn't much but we brought what we could." Barbara held the bags she'd been carrying up for him to see and watched as he smiled again.

"Thank you. Both of you. You must come in. The boys will be happy to see you both again."

"We don't want to intrude-" Barbara began.

Father Reilly wasn't having any of it. "You two could never intrude. Please." He gestured behind him to the stairs, and Barbara knew better than to argue. Father Reilly didn't usually take no for an answer, not when coffee was on the table.

Barbara just shrugged in surrender, Blake doing the same. It wasn't like they had anywhere to be.

* * *

"So you don't know who has this trigger?"

It was a good question Father Reilly asked, sipping the mug of coffee in his hands. He leaned back against the worn kitchen counter and gazed across the narrow space at both Blake and Barbara curiously. Barbara just wished she had a better answer for him, and for herself.

"No. we don't," she sighed, clutching the now luke-warm mug in her hands tightly. She sounded frustrated. "We're having a hard enough time trying to locate the bomb as it is. Bane's not giving anything away."

"Man like Bane never would," Father muttered back sympathetically. "How's the Commissioner?"

"He's good. Angry, but good." It was Blake that answered that question, looking between Barbara and Father Reilly. His lips tightened into a straight line and Barbara almost felt he was answering for himself too. She knew him well enough by now to know that was his angry voice. He couldn't stop himself almost growling the word angry.

Father Reilly nodded slowly as he processed the information. "I'm glad to hear that – he's good that is. We couldn't afford to lose a man like James Gordon." His expression remained soft as he nodded towards the two of them too. "At least you two are alright."

Barbara felt a warmth in her chest at the sight of his smile. It was hard with everything going on with Bane, to remember that not everyone was bad in the city. There were still people who were good, who cared about them and others, not just her father and Diane. There were people who needed the protection of their own; they didn't all have police safe houses. "We're glad you and the boys are too," she replied.

"Don't you worry about us. We'll survive."

Suddenly, the door swung open beside them, and Barbara glanced up to see Adam stood in the doorway. He was a little out of breath, and Barbara almost immediately thought something was wrong.

"Barbara," he began urgently. It was close enough to Babs for her not to throw something at him. _Playful idiot_. But she immediately put the mug down on the counter and straightened up. She didn't expect the next words out of his mouth. "We're starting a match if you're in. My brother Dean, shot-gunned you for his team. We get Blake."

Barbara paused but grinned smugly at Blake as she relaxed. There wasn't any danger. But still Blake didn't look that enthusiastic at the prospect of a soccer match. "Oh really? Is that so?"

Adam nodded.

"Well, you're going down Adam. I'm in."

"Blake?" he almost begged, gazing up at the man. He looked so excited.

"Oh no, I-" Blake began in weak protest, gesturing feebly to Father Reilly beside him. Apparently, though, that wasn't going to work.

"Don't let me stop you," Father Reilly smirked, almost shoving him towards the door. "Have fun."

Blake almost rolled his eyes but didn't fight. No, instead he just tackled Adam into his arms, pulling him out the door and towards the quad on the roof. He seemed just like a kid at that moment and Barbara couldn't help but laugh. It was such a different side to him; one she hadn't seen before Bane had blown up Gotham. "Ok. It's on, little guy. Let's do this."

"Confident are we?" Barbara bit back. She smiled at Father Reilly and bolted after Blake, up the stairs to the rooftop quad.

"I'm not too bad," he called back. "You?"

With that, she shot him a playful smirk over her shoulder and headed towards the group of boys she could see waiting for them with a ball. "Oh… You'll see."

Soccer; it had been a good few years since Barbara played the sport. However – to her amazement- Blake seemed to be something of a professional. Yeah, she should have seen that one coming. But she hadn't. Her mistake.

She stood there, gaping, as he effortlessly re-took the ball from her for the fifth time since the game had started, and dribbled it past her team. He called loudly as he passed the ball back to Adam.

Barbara lunged forward, laughing as she tried to take the ball back and pass it to Dean, who was only a few steps away. But yet again she found herself blocked. Ok, she wasn't professional but she didn't like to lose. That and her natural athleticism made her a decent player.

She hurried forward, sticking her foot out to make a tackle as one of the other boys dribbled past her towards the goal. However, as she did she felt her feet tangle with someone else's and she fell to the floor, landing on something surprisingly soft. Something that also cried out as she all but fell on to them.

Blake?

"Ow."

"Oh my- I'm so sorry," Barbara immediately gasped, noticing the way her body was awkwardly pinning his to the tarmac. A flush rose in her cheeks and she scrambled to suddenly get off of him. "You ok?"

He nodded as she sat up and started to brush herself down. He'd live. If anything he was just embarrassed he'd missed her coming like that. Damn his stupid clumsy feet.

"I didn't take you for a cheater," was all he sniggered, pulling her back down as she tried to stand.

It was enough to take her completely by surprise.

"You fell on me!" Barbara protested in shock. Her body slid effortlessly back to the floor again, pinned beneath him. Who was the cheater now, huh? "L... L... Let go!" she giggled through breaths.

Instantly, his grip loosened, allowing her room to move. Blake laughed even harder in amusement as she kicked and threw him over. She wriggled past and snatched up the ball between her feet, the game not forgotten. If anything it had stopped the moment they'd tumbled.

"Dean!" she called passing it across the court to her team.

Blake moved to get up and intercept, but the boys were already on it. Barbara's team lunged, making her roar with laughter as the boys began piling up in a heap, pinning him down.

"BUNDLE!" Dean cheered as he all but propelled himself onto Blake, keeping him well and truly down. He also just happened to keep him down long enough for the ball to make its way to another one of their team.

"Go!" Barbara all but screamed, lost in the moment. It was almost as if she'd gone back in time to be a kid again. No Bane, no bomb, no terrorists. For one single hour it was all forgotten, lost in a blur of laughter and childishness.

It was euphoric.

Barbara watched as the ball travelled in a neat line and straight to another one of the kids, just in time for him to shoot and score a goal. He cheered loudly, as did the rest of her team. Victory was theirs.

"Rematch! That's gotta be a foul," Blake protested, as the boys began to slowly release him for their prison. However, Barbara could see he meant it playfully; his ear-splitting grin gave that much away.

Huh… he looked cute when he smiled like that.

Barbara jogged hastily over to him and offered him a hand. Needless to say, he took it.

"Sorry, Blake," Dean smiled, ruffling Adam's hair as he passed them. "You lose."

Be that as it may, Blake didn't seem to look too heartbroken about it, unlike Adam however, who was shooting daggers towards Dean.

"Stop being annoying," he whined, making them all snigger softly to themselves. It was unavoidable. He seemed too innocent when he did.

"I'm not being annoying. You're just playing like a girl," Dean retorted.

"And that's a bad thing?"

All the boys stopped, gulping as Barbara stood there, hands on her hips, grinning smugly – ball in hand.

"Don't make me beat you lot all over again."

Blake just laughed, watching as all of them fell deadly silent, looking like rabbits in headlights. Barbara certainly had that power over them, and over him.

"I think they'll be ok," he soothed, watching as she broke a smile too, dropping the ball back to the floor. It bounced once before she stopped it, resting her foot on the top, looking almost as happy as she had back in the bar that night before all this had happened. It made his heart stutter.

"Good."

"Re-match?"

"You're on, Blake."

"You … you can call me John, you know," he added hesitantly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Barbara just nodded. "Ok then… John." The name felt odd in her mouth, yet as soon as she said it, she knew it sounded right. "And you can call me, Babs. Not Barbara, or Miss Gordon."

He just laughed. "You're on then, Babs."

Her name sounded just as good coming from him too.

* * *

"You're back," Diane all but cheered the moment she and John made it through the door of the safe house. It was only a few hours they'd been gone, but by the expression on her face, you'd have thought it was days. Then again, stuck with a cooped up Commissioner wasn't exactly going to have been a fun day. No wonder Diane looked a little worse for wear, or so Barbara mused as she shrugged off her coat. "Thank god. Your Dad's been driving me crazy."

"Sorry we took so long," Barbara sighed in reply, smiling as she did. Diane didn't miss the way she _really_ smiled as John slid past, chuckling to himself as he went. "We got caught up at the home."

"You look happy."

"I had fun. Played a little soccer, caught up with Father Reilly."

"Oh?" Diane breathed, crossing her arms over her chest and stepping weirdly close to Barbara. "That all?"

"Yes," Barbara muttered skeptically. She knew exactly what was going on here. Diane was the most open book she'd ever seen. It was why she stepped back from her and shook her head dangerously. "Di, drop the look. Now. I mean it."

"What look?" Diane shrugged innocently, but Barbara knew better.

It was why she rolled her eyes, skipping past and straight into the living room instead. At least she didn't have to worry about her Dad giving her weird looks.

"Dad! We're back."

Immediately her Dad came hurrying towards her out of the kitchen, looking almost as relieved as Diane had been to see her. Apparently, they were both just as difficult as each other to stay cooped up with. It made Barbara all the more glad she hadn't been here to see it.

"Glad you're both back ok," her Dad automatically exhaled in relief. His arms wove around her, holding her close as if to re-enforce his point. "I was worried."

"I know, Diane said."

"Sorry," he grumbled almost sounding guilty to confess it. "I just don't like sitting round doing nothing all day."

"It's too dangerous out there for you," came the automated reply.

It wasn't exactly as if they hadn't had this talk before; Barbara had all but worn out the subject with her father since it had all started. Still, she hugged him warmly before pulling away to respond.

"Bane's got his guys looking everywhere for you."

"I know." Her Dad rolled her eyes, throwing his hands up in frustration. "I just… want to do something… I'm going to go crazy if I have to spend one more minute like some caged up animal!" His voice had suddenly risen sharply, making Barbara all but wince as he snapped.

She noticed John doing the same as he stood watching from the kitchen behind them. The look he was giving them said it all; he wasn't the only one feeling that way. Still, her Dad's face fell as he seemed to catch himself. He all but rubbed a hand down his face and faced the window in irritation, choking out what sounded like a "Sorry."

"Don't be. You're not the only one who hates this; being cooped up. It sucks."

"But what else can we do?"

Barbara hadn't heard Diane enter the living room. In fact, she had almost been silent as she'd overheard their conversation from her position perched on the sofa. She did have a point though. What else could they do that they weren't already doing? It wasn't as if the four of them alone could do much to change things as they were?

"We need to hit Bane where it hurts," John said calmly, as if he'd already made up his mind. "Batman isn't coming back. It's just us, and nothing is going to change unless we make it."

Immediately Barbara felt her stomach churn uneasily at the thought. Batman wasn't here, sure, but he had to be coming back. He had to be. Up until now she hadn't really given it all that much thought; she couldn't. It just left her with this feeling of emptiness and queasiness inside, and considering their current position, it was a feeling she could do without.

"But… how?"

"There are plenty of people, hiding in this city; that would help us if we asked. We just have to find them."

"Like who?" her father shot back, raising an eyebrow.

It was Barbara who piped up this time. "Harvey, Foley…" she began. The list was easy to think of, and these were names just off the top of her head.

"What makes you think they'd help?"

"Because they'd much prefer hiding here forever," Barbara muttered sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

Her Dad got the point. He sighed, scratching his chin in thought. "Still… how would we find them?"

"People talk," Diane suggested smoothly. "Most are probably still in their homes but… people out there see things. We know that. I know somebody has to know where they are."

"And the cell towers are still up," John added. "Some we can call, as long as we block it so it can't be traced."

"I can help with that," Barbara piped up, thinking of the computer she'd seen in one of the spare rooms. It had been too long since she'd been at a keyboard. This was as good a time as any to get back in to it.

"True."

"You think we should organise a meeting?"

Her father nodded calmly. "We need order. We need a plan. Hiding in our homes and waiting for this to blow over isn't an option anymore."

John nodded in agreement. "I can start tracking people down… organise someplace we could meet that Bane wouldn't know about it."

"Does such a place exist?"

"Bane may have control of the city, but he doesn't know it. This isn't his home; it's ours. I know this city like the back of my hand. If anyone can find a place, I can."

Barbara paused, watching the pair of them. If she didn't know any better she'd almost have thought this was any old case they were working on, rather than the mad plan it was. Still, it was a plan none the less. Considering two minutes ago they hadn't had one, it was progress.

"Sounds like we have a plan."

Diane just smirked, pumping her fist in the air jokingly, as if she was at a pep rally. "Go team."

Somehow though, Barbara felt she was right about that. They were a team. Finally. They were doing something to fight back. They weren't hiding in fear. This was there city, and Bane had better start running.


	11. Chapter 10

**_Guess who's back! Sorry about the wait for this chapter as I know it's a week or so late, and you've all be so lovely sending me your support and feedback. I'll be honest, I haven't ever really written action before, so apologies if it's awful. That's partly the reason I've been so slow posting this as I've been trying to get this chapter right, and you'll see why - it's a key moment for this story, and for Babs herself. But I've powered through today as it's been a blissful autumn day, full of rain so I've been hiding with my blanket inside, and writing the last of this. So, as always, let me know what you think, feel or if you just want to say hi. I appreciate it all; that's why I do this at the end of the day xxx you all keep me going._**

 ** _Thesilentmage_**

* * *

The meeting had, all things considered, been a success.

Almost everyone they'd reached out to had been there, save a small handful of people, who were either ill or unable to attend. Barbara knew the real reason most of those people hadn't come, and she almost didn't blame them.

Tonight? It had been a big step. They'd finally started to take a stand, daring to crawl out their homes and come together to talk.

Her father, of course, had been in his element tonight. He'd lead with surprising ease, addressing all those who had come, filling the back of the empty bookstore, declaring his intentions, and the risks they all knew would be involved.

Barbara couldn't help but feel a small burst of hope, and pride, inside as he spoke. Her father had always been gifted at leading, rallying his troops. Yet, stood there tonight, looking more alive than he had for the last few weeks, he'd been incredible. It was as if she were watching him, back in the GCPD, voicing the battle cry of justice, courage, and companionship. As she'd looked around the room, she hadn't been surprised to see everyone had similar reactions, all hooked to every word that came out of his mouth.

For the first time, she didn't feel alone. Everyone in that room, all of them, they felt the same as she did. They were brave enough to admit it, and want to do something about it. Barbara couldn't help but feel the same, the electric atmosphere sending shivers down her spine.

When it had all ended, another meeting was scheduled, and location established. People all took assignments to handle, and slowly, began dispersing back into the night.

It was there, Barbara waited, positioned by the rickety back door, feeling the late night breeze whipping up the stairs below. Diane stood beside her, half hidden in shadow.

She glanced back down the hall and noticed John and her father, stood talking to the last few members that had still yet to leave. It had been John's idea, staggering their exits, trying not to attract attention to themselves. The last group had left a few minutes ago, and soon it was their turn. It was a smart idea, Barbara had to admit. John had been nothing but useful since everything began, and she had to say she admired the man a lot.

She also found it was almost natural now, not calling him Blake, but John. Ever since their outing to St. Swithin's there had been a change between them, one she couldn't put her finger on. Yet, somehow, they seemed even friendlier, and relaxed around each other. All she knew was she liked it. She liked him.

As it was, John and her father would follow Diane and her home later. Barbara trusted John to get home ok and knew he would take care of her father. Still, it didn't make her any less nervous about leaving them behind.

"Ready?"

Diane's voice broke Barbara's attention, and she turned, nodding. "Sure thing."

With that, she stepped forward, down the stairs, and out the back screen door and into the street. Diane was hot on her heels, and the two of them shared a glance. The safe house wasn't too far from the store; half an hour at most.

It was brisk night, and both girls walked with a quickened pace, heads down against the chill. Neither wanted to be out longer than necessary.

They may have made a big step that night, but the battle wasn't over. Gotham was as dangerous as ever, and they didn't need reminding of that particular detail.

Yet, it almost seemed fate didn't agree.

As Barbara and Diane turned the street corner, they stopped, staring ahead in horror and surprise.

Up ahead, a group of about people had congregated, crowded round several bins they had converted into makeshift fires. People had bottles in hand, and by the way many were calling, staggering about, it was their first bottle either. All were armed and hadn't seemed to notice the girls stood down the street.

There were too many to walk past, and more than enough to set Barbara on edge. Shit.

Barbara hastily grabbed onto Diane's arm and yanked her into the alley beside them. They couldn't go that way. Not if they wanted to live.

Diane paused, eyes widened as she looked to Barbara. She seemed to say the same thing. They had to go the other way.

"We need to split up," Barbara began, thinking of the group only a few feet away. Their voices echoed loudly into the night, reminding Barbara, and most of the surrounding homes, of their presence.

"What?" Diane gasped, not looking enthusiastic to hear that was the plan. What could Barbara say? She was thinking on her feet here. What she said made sense, and there weren't many alternatives.

"We'll attract too much attention together. Separately we can blend in."

Diane shook her head stubbornly, folding her arms over her chest. "I'm not leaving you."

"Just till 6th street," Barbara continued smoothly, thinking through the route in her head. One benefit of her eidetic memory was never forgetting anything she'd ever seen, and a map of Gotham city was something she'd seen more than once. "We can meet up again there. We just need to make it past whatever is going on here."

Diane rolled her eyes, opening her mouth to protest, but she stopped. Instead, she sighed, running a hand down her face as she visibly weighed up their plan. "Fine," she relented. "Be careful though."

It didn't need saying.

"I will be," Barbara nodded. "You too."

"See ya back home, Red."

The use of the nickname made her smile briefly.

Barbara nodded and hugged Diane. Diane hugged her back, before taking a deep breath. With that, she left, easing out into the street, and in the opposite direction. Barbara could only pray this worked.

After a moment or two, she took it as her turn to make a move and leave that alley.

Barbara also took a deep breath of the icy night air, and turned, following the direction Diane had set off in. It was through a decent neighborhood, or it had been –at least- back before this all started. Barbara didn't know what exactly counted as a good neighborhood these days.

As she walked, she heard her heart pounding in her chest, and she shivered a little, whether from fear or the cold, she didn't want to know.

She kept walking and didn't stop, not even when she turned another corner and saw a small huddle of men, stood on the opposite side of the street.

She kept her head down and hurried on as the wind picked up around her. She shivered and pulled her hood up over her vibrant hair. Oh god… hopefully, these guys wouldn't even notice her. She was wishing she'd gone with Diane after all. She panicked silently but kept walking.

 _Ignore them and they'll ignore you_ she thought quietly, tilting her head away from them. She didn't even want to look at the three muscular men, all of whom she could hear laughing. After a few seconds, she relaxed a little. She was a few feet from the edge of the street. She'd nearly made it.

"Hey! Hey, pretty lady! Where'd you think you're going?" a voice yelled from behind her.

She continued walking. Crap…

"Hey! I was talking to you!" the man yelled a little louder. When she didn't reply a bullet bounced near her feet.

Barbara couldn't help but yelp, almost scream, loudly as she leaped aside, staring at where the bullet had hit the concrete. She halted, turning round to face her attackers. "Please… Go away…" she snapped quickly, a sense of fear taking over her. Part of her wanted to make a run for it, but the gun aimed at her was enough of a warning to stay where she was. She didn't dare risk it. Who knew? Maybe they were just lost?

"That's what I thought," the man continued. From a few feet away Barbara could tell the man talking to her was big. Big, ugly, and had the largest arms she'd ever seen. Her eyes gazed at his figure in fear.

"Wha… what do you want?" she stammered weakly, holding her hands up in surrender. The gun was all she could see, and she tried not to panic, mind flashing back to that night with Harvey Dent. What was it with guys sticking guns in her face?

He seemed mid-thirties with two deep black eyes. He wore a black ski coat with the hood pulled up, which seemed to cover any real features on his face. Dang it.

On either side of him stood the other two men, looking almost identical to him. However, they did all seem to reek of booze, enough to make her think they'd had a bath in the stuff.

Desperately she scanned the area for a weapon of some kind. Nothing.

She glanced around and spotted what seemed to be an old metal pipe, lying discarded on the pavement by the sewer cover, but it was just out of her reach, and she couldn't move with the gun on her anyway.

Before she could make any sort of plan at all, the man was already in front of her, grinning smugly as he held the close threateningly close to her head. She panicked. What would her Dad do? What would the Batman have done?

Both men seemed to switch positions, surrounding her the way she'd seen lions did on the nature channel when they'd found a wounded gazelle for dinner.

In this case, she was dinner.

Fuck.

"What do you want?" she spat, trying not to show her terror.

He laughed sliding forwards, still not answering her. Clearly, he enjoyed playing with his dinner.

She began to feel herself shivering, but this time in fear; that she knew.

He took a slow and long step towards her, crunching the snow beneath his boot. So, she did the only thing she could. She panicked.

She waited and drove her knee upwards and struck hard with what strength she had left, ducking beneath his arm, and out of the way of the gun, as soon as he was close enough. She then swung her fist towards his face.

The man staggered backward blood dripping out of his nose.

Broken she concluded.

She ran past as fast as she could, hurrying forward, but the two other men were quicker. In an instant, she felt herself being propelled forward, as a great weight collided with her spine. She smacked down onto the pavement with a sickening thud as her head collided painfully on the ice. She rolled over dazed, lashing out at him, despite the blurriness to her vision. She felt dizzy and could feel blood trickling down her forehead. Her ears rang with a shrill wailing and she felt petrified.

One of the other men hadn't been so keen to let her go. Unfortunately. Barbara didn't know what to do, now that that had failed.

She kicked at him wildly, ignoring his weight as he tried to haul her to her feet.

He grunted painfully as her converse connected with his chest, but he didn't let go. Instead, he seized her arms in a vice-like grip and yanked her back to the other two.

This time her arms were pinned by her side, restricting her movements. Crap.

He didn't ease up either, as he held her there, groaning as she struggled, more and more desperately.

The one from before, the one she'd assaulted, stood there, clutching his nose, howling as blood dripped steadily from it, and the tissue blackened from bruising.

At any other time that would have made her happy, if she hadn't been trapped like this.

His eyes burned with hatred as he rounded on her, gun still held menacingly in his hand.

"Bitch!" he hissed through his teeth, spit flying from his lips as he glared at her with pure fury.

Barbara cried out as his fist smacked her nose, making an ugly cracking sound that was swallowed by her sharp exclamation of pain. She could feel blood trickle down her lip from her nostril, and she thrashed in the man's arms.

Ok.

She was pissed off.

The man in front of her laughed, shaking his head back and forth. "That's payback and a warning not to try anything smart again."

The other men leered, laughing smugly at the sight of her squirming.

That was one thing Barbara hated more than anything, more than she was afraid of them. She hated being weak. She hated being mocked, put in her place.

That was their big mistake.

Like that, a switch flipped in her mind, and everything just slowed. Barbara took one deep breath and glanced between the men, and the edge of the street. Her mind raced as she calculated her next few moves – all she knew would be critical if she wanted to make it out of here, back to her Dad, Diane, and John.

She swallowed the sudden wave of terror that washed over her, and channeled it into anger, into determination.

She was Barbara, Barbara Gordon. She could do anything, and she knew it.

Who'd got straight A's through her entire academic career, through hard work, and many late nights studying? Her.

Who'd taken up judo just because one boy had told her she was too weak and got a black belt in record time, and with a record amount of skill? Her.

Who'd also managed to secure herself an internship in the D.A.'s office, without her father's help, all so she could do what she loved? Her.

Batman had saved her, and the entire city all by himself. And she couldn't handle three thugs? Ok. That wasn't going to happen. She was Barbara Gordon, daughter of the great Commissioner Gordon. This was her city, and she wasn't going to let three street thugs best her. Not tonight, not ever.

One more breath.

 _You can do this, Babs… don't think. Just do._

She closed her eyes for a brief moment, and she was ready.

Barbara lashed out sharply, swinging her left elbow back with startling speed and force. She felt it make contact with the man's stomach and heard his cry of pain. She seized the momentary slip of his grip on her, and ducked, twisting out his grasp. She pushed him backward out of reach and looked at the man in front of her. As she did so she instantly raised her right leg, kicking it out at the other thug in front of her with all the force she could muster.

The man groaned and staggered back, clutching his stomach in surprise. It seemed he hadn't expected the sudden burst of energy from her. _His mistake…_ Barbara thought swiftly, dropping to all fours. She swung her leg all the way around, 360 degrees, knocking his legs out from beneath him. Her eyes widened in relief as she watched his muscular form tumble backward, crashing onto the icy tarmac with a sickening smack. A trickle of blood appeared on his skull. Whoops… one down. Two to go.

She turned her head back, alarmed by a sudden loud cry from behind her. The man she'd escaped lunged towards her in a dodgy tackle like motion. She sidestepped him easily, using the man's momentum against him, and hurling him to join his other partner. She was majorly surprised by her current success. She'd never been much of a fighter. But then again, she'd never really been threatened by armed henchmen before.

Adrenaline soared through her systems as she turned around, fists clenched, ready to handle thug number three.

She stopped instantly as she spotted him. He stood before her, hands extended, and a tattered looking pistol aimed right at her face. She gulped in fear, but still grinned none the less, dropping to the ground, and sliding over the ice and between his legs.

She leaped up to her feet like lightning, swiping the metal pipe off the ground as she did, and kicking him forward onto his knees.

In a final surge of power, Barbara swung her hands round, almost like hitting a ball for a home-run. She felt a shudder up her arms as the steel pipe made contact with the scarred man's skull, sending his head juddering ninety degrees to her left, and his body down on to the ground.

Barbara towered above him, looking wide-eyed at the scene. Well, that had gone surprisingly better than she'd thought it would. Her breathing was quick and shallow as she gasped for air. Sweat glistened across her forehead and she knew there was blood coming from the edge of her nose.

It was all catching up with her now.

Her trembling fingers dropped the pipe to the floor with a loud clatter as it hit the pavement.

For a few moments, it was just her, standing in the pale chemical light of the street lamps, staring around her, trying to pull herself together. She knew she couldn't stay here. There were probably more thugs all over the surrounding streets. She needed to get back home, but for that to happen she needed her legs to work, and currently, the shock was keeping her rooted to the spot.

As she turned around she heard the distinct sound of footsteps, heading towards her. She gulped, readying for another ambush. She was very relieved, however, when a few seconds later she spotted a familiar blonde figure sprinting down the street. Barbara dropped her hostile stance and sighed. What on earth would she think of her?

"Barbara-" Diane began, staring at her friend in what Barbara assumed was relief and surprise. It was clear she'd been panicking. Diane slowed her pace as she approached, taking in the current scene. It was clear from her wide eyes that she hadn't been expecting to see the three bleeding, and unconscious, men on the ground behind Barbara. "What the hell just happened?"

Barbara looked at Diane, panting heavily and wiping her bloody nose with the back of her shirt sleeve. Well…. What had just happened? One minute three burly men came lunging for her, the next thing she knew there they were… lying unconscious on the floor. Upon a closer look, Barbara concluded one would probably find that the men were now suffering from several cracked ribs, dislocated joints, and possible concussions. She didn't even know she'd had that in her.

She stared around her at the three unconscious thugs, faces lying in the powdered snow. The steel pipe was lying a few centimeters from them and it filled Barbara with a weird sense of pleasure. Maybe it was the adrenaline doing crazy things to her body? She had just had a hand to hand fight with three overly large thugs.

"I… they attacked me," Barbara replied, shakily grasping the situation.

"I… I can see that. I meant… you… you…"

"I just…," Barbara whispered in disbelief. Slowly she shook her head and gulped. "I guess that's what years of self-defense does to you…"

"What? Makes you a super ninja?" Diane chuckled, although it sounded mainly nervous than anything else. Barbara didn't know what to say.

"Uh… yeah," she smiled softly.

There was a moment of silence as both girls looked at the other.

"Well… come on super ninja… we better scram before anyone else comes. I'm not sure I'm quite super enough to handle it…" Diane continued lightly, reaching for her friend.

Diane was just relieved Barbara was alright. It had terrified her when she hadn't seen her at the meetup point. She had known something was wrong. Luckily Barbara seemed to have had it under control. That didn't, though, stop her looking at the redhead in silent surprise. It was safe to say Diane was never underestimating Barbara again… ever.

It seemed however, Barbara was not moving. Her eyes were on the steel pipe, and the small blood spatters on it.

What had she done?

She felt an odd cocktail or guilt, fear, surprise and relief in her stomach. As much as she tried Barbara couldn't shake the slight feeling of pleasure she had in stopping the thugs who had attacked her. It stunned her…

Diane tried again, coughing loudly and laying her hand weakly on her friend's shoulder. Barbara finally began taking small steps towards Diane, leaving the scene behind them.

As they walked Barbara pinched her nose in the attempt to stop it bleeding. The least the guy could have done was remove his ring. She doubted he'd broken it but god, it hurt like hell.


	12. Chapter 11

_**Well people, I can only apologise again for the delay. Uni has well and truly got me swamped in deadlines and reading lists - the agony of being an English and theatre studies student. Luckily I found the time to edit this in between essays, so hopefully, you all forgive me. As usual, feel free to let me know what you think. I'm always happy to hear from you wonderful people x Thesilentmage**_

* * *

Of course, the moment Barbara had stepped in the door she'd been ambushed again, but in an entirely different way.

She'd barely taken a step inside the front door before she was surrounded by John, and her father, both of whom began fussing far too much for her liking.

She knew she looked pretty bad. Her reflection in the hall mirror told her as much. Still, she'd be fine. All she needed was a couple band-aids, a coffee, and a dozen painkillers. By the way the three of them were acting, they made it sound like she needed a hospital.

Her father was nowhere as bad as she knew her mother would have been in the same situation. Still, the way he made Barbara sit in the kitchen as he tended to her made her groan. He had Diane fetch the first aid kit from the hall, all whilst John stood watching.

"Oh my god," she moaned, wincing as her Dad dabbed her forehead with disinfectant. He was a pretty crappy nursemaid. "I'm fine – and ow!"

Her father flashed her a weak smile, his own attempt to comfort her. "Sit still," he tutted, failing to conceal the concern still in his eyes. "You don't need an infection as well as a concussion."

Barbara sighed, rolling her eyes. "I'm not concussed. Just tired, and I want to sleep."

"That's a sign of concussion," Diane piped up.

The look Barbara shot her back shut her up pretty quickly.

"I'll… get some more bandages," she muttered, leaving the kitchen scarp-ish. Just in time too, else she'd be needing the bandages. Good god.

Still, her Dad was only fussing for a few more minutes before he finally stood up and nodded, letting her know his handy work was officially done for the night. She'd been disinfected and bandaged to his heart's content, and she was more than happy. Hopefully, now she could do the one thing she wanted to, and slide into bed. This night had already been long enough.

"There," he declared, chuckling softly to himself. "All better now."

"Good. Can I go sleep?"

Her Dad groaned but just smirked as he shook his head. "Not just yet, kiddo-"

"-For fucks-"

"Barbara!" he warned, and at that, she clamped her lips shut and smiled angelically. "I need to go grab you some painkillers first but then, yes, you can sleep."

Barbara was unable to prevent her sudden cheer of relief. "Thank you," she gasped. "Now go… shoo."

Her father luckily took the hint. He was more than worn out himself; Barbara wasn't exactly the easiest of patients. If only he could blame that stubbornness on her mother, but sadly he knew that was all on him. Bless her. The sooner she was appeased and in bed; the better.

Barbara felt the same.

As soon as her father left the room she leaned forward, burying her aching head in her hands, and let out a slow moan. Her whole body felt like it had been hit by a bus.

"How's the patient?"

"It's dire, I'm afraid," Barbara sniggered lightly, reaching up and patting her bandaged nose weakly as if to prove her point. "Critical condition. I'm going to have to amputate my legs and nose."

"I better stay away then," John teased, tutting as he did. It just seemed so natural the way he taunted her as if they'd been friends for years, rather than weeks. Then again, exceptional circumstances did tend to put things in different perspectives. A day here was probably equivalent to like a year in the normal world, or so Barbara mused as she caught him grinning as he approached.

"Yeah… It's highly contagious."

"Then I definitely better stay away."

"Says the guy still approaching me?" Barbara shot back, eyeing him mockingly as he did indeed approach. He closed the gap between them pretty easily, leaning against the counter next to her and raising a hand.

"Well, I thought I better bring a present."

"Oh?" Barbara paused, watching as he pointed at her head with one hand. She reached up and realised he was gesturing to the small scrape above her eyebrow she'd missed. Just as she went to ask, he automatically revealed his gift, holding the Star Wars band-aid up in the light of the kitchen. "A band-aid?" she scoffed, wondering where the hell he'd found that. Since when did safe houses have Star Wars band-aids?

"You missed a cut… Let me?" he offered.

How could she say no?

"Sure," she smiled, letting him approach. She watched as he carefully peeled off the backing and reached up, leaning towards her face, so close she could see the deep green of his eyes. "You're a pretty good nurse," Barbara teased out of habit, despite their close proximity, not wincing as he placed the band-aid over the gash carefully. Now wasn't a good time for her Dad to come back.

"What can I say? I'm well trained in the surgical procedure of applying band-aids."

Barbara laughed despite herself, wincing as her ribs protested. Ok. Laughing was off the table. "Well, thanks."

"Anytime," he soothed. "Least I could do, short of going out there and kicking the asses of the guys who did this to you."

A sharp pang shot through Barbara's heart as he said it, and she wasn't sure what to make of it. It wasn't a feeling she was used to, and she almost gasped in surprise at it. The last thing she needed was to be having a heart attack after tonight, but there was just something about the way he said it… The slight growl behind his words was undeniable and for a moment she swore he looked almost torn up.

"I think I did that already," she whispered softly, "considering how they weren't even conscious when I left them."

"Yeah," he replied but his eyes never left hers, not even as his hand rested on her knee, his touch burning through her torn jeans. "You really are a rather remarkable person Miss Gordon."

She didn't know what to say.

Her lips just parted as if she expected words to simply fall out of them. Yet, none came. None. Nothing. Nada. Not even a single squeak… Rather, she sat there, staring at him for a moment, noticing how he seemed to stare back.

She felt as if the moment was endless. Well, that was until she heard her father coughing from the doorway beside them. Then the moment well and truly ended, shattering into millions of little pieces as both of them sprang apart and looked away hastily as if caught committing a terrible crime.

As Barbara looked at her Dad John all but slid out of the room without another word. Well… that had been… what had that been?

However, she didn't really have time to think. The minute John was out of sight, her Dad strolled back over to her. The sight of two small painkillers in the middle of his hand almost had her singing with joy.

"Here," her Dad offered, handing her the two small white disks. "It's the best I could find but it'll take the edge off to let you sleep."

Barbara couldn't express her gratitude enough, especially as she grabbed a glass of water to down the tablets. She all but threw them back and sighed happily, leaning against her Dad's shoulder.

"Can we not tell Mom about this?" Barbara muttered, chuckling faintly as she did.

Her father just nodded. "Deal. The last thing we both need is her going even more crazy about not being here."

"Which is her fault in the first place," Barbara whispered under her breath, but she knew her father heard her by the way he sighed, hesitating before picking up the first aid box off the table before them. He didn't say anything, merely walked over and kissed her forehead softly.

"Get some sleep, Babs."

"I will, Daddy," she sighed back, hand patting his arm affectionately. "Love you."

"Love you, too."

With that, he left.

* * *

By the time Barbara had stripped off her ruined clothes and pulled on her pajamas, she was well and truly exhausted. Every part of her body ached, throbbing despite the wave of relief the painkillers were giving her. She felt as if even if she slept for a hundred years, it still wouldn't be close to long enough.

How much longer could they keep this up?

Barbara couldn't stop the thought crossing her mind as she stared in the bathroom mirror. Apart from the damage from her attackers, she couldn't help but notice that her eyes were sunken in black circles, and even she could see she was far thinner than she had been before all this started.

The stress. It was going to be the death of them… that and the cold, the lack of food, the crazy armed men in the streets… It was enough to make her head hurt all over again.

With a groan Barbara left the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her in frustration. She then marched all the way back into her room and flopped onto the bed beside Diane, who was apparently waiting for her.

"What's that?"

"Real pain meds," Diane sniggered gently, holding the beers in her hands aloft for Barbara to see. The dim light of the lamp beside them made it clear her's was already half empty, and she held the other one out towards her.

Barbara just shook her head. "I don't think I'm meant to drink and take painkillers."

"It'll be our secret," Diane sang softly, giving a sheepish look at the now closed bedroom door. "Besides, this stuff is water, and those tablets were baby stuff."

Barbara just sighed. "Ok. Why not?"

Why shouldn't she give in just this once? Was a near-death experience not a good enough reason? Barbara didn't have it in her to say no as she took the cold bottle for herself, and slid back against the pillows behind her.

Instead, she unscrewed the cap and took a long, slow gulp. Beside her, Diane did the same. In fact, the two of them sat like that for what felt like forever… both of them said nothing, just drinking and thinking in the deafening silence. Neither one of them wanted to be the first to say a thing… what even was there to say?

"So… you wanna talk about it?"

Barbara opened her lips but clamped them shut immediately. She couldn't find the words to even begin to describe what had happened to her. "I just… I almost don't believe that happened tonight."

"Really?"

"The whole thing was just a blur. I remember the fear inside of me, and the way they all laughed at me but then… I remember just punching them. That's it."

"Well, you did more than just 'punch' them. I doubt that the big one will ever be able to have kids after you whacking him."

It was the casual tone in which Diane said it that caused Barbara to break into laughter. The idea of it seeming so normal, despite the extraordinary events that had just occurred, got her. That, and the mental satisfaction as she remembered the guy clutching at his junk.

"Don't make me do that," Barbara whined as her ribs barked in protest.

"What? Laugh?"

"Yeah, that."

It only made Diane laugh harder. In fact, the two of them were unable to talk for the following minutes as they continued to laugh, trying to erase the terror both of them had felt that night.

"I was so scared something happened to you," Diane confessed.

"I handled myself ok," Barbara sighed thoughtfully. "I wish I could protect the rest of the people in this city from thugs like those ones tonight."

"You can't," Diane cursed bitterly, shaking her head. "I hate it just as much as you do."

"No, Diane. But… what if there was way… a way to help people… protect this city?"

"How? By putting on capes and masks and running around like Batman?"

Diane paused, waiting for the laugh she'd thought she'd get in response. However, all she got was silence. Her eyes widened in horror as she also caught sight of the look on the girl beside her's face. If there was one thing she knew about Barbara Gordon, it was how much trouble that stern frown meant.

That frown was the same frown she got when they were working a case. It was the frown that made weaker men pale as she strode up to challenge them, file in hand, and a killer argument ready to go. It was the look that said Barbara Gordon wasn't backing down from a fight … ever.

Diane almost swore she shuddered. "Are you kidding me? That's your idea? Maybe that guy hit you harder than you thought," Diane mumbled, shaking her head. Did Barbara hear herself? She sounded utterly insane. "There is no way we could… I mean, do you know how dangerous that would be? Out there… It isn't just losers like the ones you found tonight, there are Bane's men and criminals and-"

"I know!" Barbara exploded sharply. Diane flinched, making Barbara feel bad. She wasn't trying to rip Diane's head off, but she had to see this too right? Even as she sat there on the mattress, looking nothing short of petrified by her friend. Barbara took a deep, calming breath and tried to talk less aggressively. "We can't just pretend it isn't happening Di. Tonight it was me and luckily I took care of it-"

"Yeah you did," Diane mumbled again, pulling away and shuffling backward off the bed.

Barbara rolled her eyes. "But tomorrow it could be a poor old lady or a defenseless kid. People in Gotham right now need someone to help them, to help show them that these scum bags who have taken over can be defeated."

"What? Like the Batman?" Diane hissed, hands on her hips. "In case you hadn't noticed Babs, he's gone. Probably for good. Maybe he saw what was happening and realised he couldn't win. We can't win either Babs. We're just two amateurs. You need to realise this is it. Gotham is alone. We're alone. There is nothing we can do. There is no point making things any worse for ourselves."

Barbara frowned. No. She wasn't accepting that. "Diane. We need to do _something_. Hiding in this apartment for the rest of our lives is beyond stupid. It won't make things right, and it is no way to live life. It sure as hell won't be the way I live mine. You and I… we can make things right. We can be a symbol to the world that we still have hope; that there are some things worth believing and fighting for. Otherwise what was the point, hey? What was the point of all those hours we spent at work, all the trials we went through, cases we fought, hearings we attended, all in the hope of trying to put the bad guys away and make this city a good place again? That courtroom is hard. It is brutal and high profile. We were about to swear an oath to uphold justice when we graduated."

Diane turned her head, looking at her friend over her shoulder. "Barbara. I'm not disagreeing with you on that. I want things to change. I want life to be good again. But this? This here is insanity. We'd be killed or captured and tortured by Bane's men." She threw her hands up and began walking away. She didn't want to have this fight. Not now. "I'm just a lawyer. Not a fighter. I fight with words, not fists."

"What would your dad say Di, if he could hear you? Huh?" Barbara replied instantly, watching her friend attempt to leave. She needed her to listen to her. "He's a detective in Starling right? Do you think he'd let criminals and scum like Bane's men take over and rule his city? Do you think he'd sit around hiding, waiting for things to fix themselves? No. He wouldn't. You can't either."

Diane stopped, glaring angrily. "Don't do that. Don't pretend you know me and my family. You don't Barbara Gordon. I don't want to die. I want to see my family again, and running around with you, being all crazy, is the surest way I know of not doing that!" She aimed an accusing finger at Barbara.

"We'd work our way up. Small interventions first, and then, then we'd train. Get better," Barbara tried quickly, walking towards Diane, holding her hands up.

"Can you even hear yourself right now?"

"Di, don't. Just-"

"Just what? No. No Barbara," Diane hissed resolutely. The conversation was clearly over in her eyes. "That is my answer to this. No way. Nuh uh. Not going to happen."

"Ok. Fine then."

Diane blinked. "Fine?" she choked, watching her friend with sudden suspicion. Barbara Gordon never backed down from a fight, let alone with nothing more than a simple, "Fine."

"Yeah. Fine," Barbara shrugged, turning her back on her. Her tone was casual as she masterfully kept her attention away from Diane. "You don't want to do it then I'm not going to force you. I can't."

Diane gaped. "But… What about you?"

"I'm still doing it," Barbara replied smoothly. "I can't just sit here while everything around me crumbles. Besides, you saw me earlier. I'm a super ninja remember?"

"Oh god. Do I need to tell your dad or something?" Diane demanded. She was at her wit's end. Why couldn't her friend stop this madness? "Barbara. Listen to me. You'll be killed."

"I'd rather die defending my home, my life and all I care about than die in a few weeks having done nothing. Eventually, we'll probably die if we do nothing Diane. Think about it."

Diane froze. Her mind churned as she replayed the last five minutes over again, knowing full well where this conversation was leading.

"You're seriously going to do it?"

Barbara finally turned, looking Diane straight in the eyes with as much severity and conviction as she could muster. "Haven't I made that clear already?"

Diane cursed. "I'm going to regret this…"

"What?"

With a heavy sigh, she rolled her eyes. "Barbara Gordon. You win… I'm in."

It was now Barbara's turn to blink in disbelief. "You are?"

"Yes," Diane groaned, marching back towards her. "I can't let you get yourself killed. You need me. We're a team after all. We have been ever since the day we met."

Despite praying that those would be the words Diane spoke, Barbara didn't take actually hearing them for granted. She knew what she was asking of her friend.

Diane clearly did too considering the way her voice was heavy with acceptance as she continued, "I mean, fate was clearly telling us something considering it trapped us in that elevator that first day at work, remember? The universe pushed us together for a reason. It trapped us together in that elevator for like four hours. I was the one panicking and calling the fire services whilst you-"

"-Whilst I called the pizza delivery guy and got him to post it through a crack in the doors," Barbara finished, remembering the day fondly. She couldn't help but laugh again as she remembered the delivery guy's face as she'd wedged his tip through the door back to him. "I remember."

"Exactly. See? Together we think things through. We go together perfectly. So, as mad as this scheme is I'd never let you do it alone."

The weight of the moment stunned them both into silence. It was only a moment later that Barbara was able to choke, "Thanks Di."

To her credit, Diane Lance just nodded again. Her mind was clearly whirring with the magnitude of what came next.

"So now what?" she shrugged as if expecting Barbara to have the answer. "We need disguises. We can't run around like this. It'll be a sure way of getting too much attention and being killed."

"We also need weapons, and facilities and –"

"Where the hell are we going to get that all from?"

Barbara finally grinned, smug at actually having the answer to this one. "I know a guy who might be able to help…"


	13. Chapter 12

_**Good evening. I am finally posting this, and I constantly feel like I'm apologising for my delays. Thankfully I break up from university in a week, and I plan to spend my Christmas break writing and posting - so keep an eye out for that. Else, just drop me a reminder that you want more. I'll happily oblige. I've been busy with my birthday and endless essays. For now... enjoy as Babs begins her journey (at last) ;)**_

 _ **Thesilentmage x**_

* * *

"Are you sure he'll be here?" Diane asked softly, pulling her large hood further over her blonde hair. Her skeptical tone wasn't appreciated too greatly from the companion stood shivering beside her.

It was a cold day in Gotham. Icy autumnal breezes whipped down the narrow streets and alleyways with no regard for the poor people that huddled together in their small crowds, and dark grey clouds hung above them ominously. It seemed summer was officially over.

Barbara was stood, trying her best to remain warm. Having lived in Gotham her whole life she was more than used to the cold falls and winters they received here. However this time it felt different, maybe it was their current circumstances but it felt colder than ever before. It was like all the warmth in the world had disappeared.

She rubbed her coat sleeves slowly, attempting to resuscitate her frozen arms. She hated waiting. If she had any other choice she'd have taken it gladly. Standing in the shadows here, watching the opposite building was both dull and cold. The fact they'd had to wake ridiculously early to make it out of the apartment before John or her father could stop them didn't make things any easier, and Diane moaning wasn't helping either.

Barbara sighed. "Yes. I am sure. He has to be here. He must just be caught up inside," she replied, eyeing her watch agitatedly. The minute hands moved too slowly for her liking. A few more moments. That was all. "Trust me, if I had an easier way of doing this I would gladly take it. But we don't, and as such we just have to wait."

"I know," Diane whispered, eyeing the building across the street. "Doesn't mean I can't complain about how bad this idea is. We don't even know if he'll help us."

"We won't know if we don't try," Barbara muttered, even if she couldn't help thinking the same. Still, this was their only shot. She just had to hope her gut was right about this. "Just … shut up and move it, ok?"

Diane nodded reluctantly, and with that, they both scurried out into the open. They kept their heads down and made their way to the nearest door, already beginning to peel away the wooden boards that were sealing them shut.

Here went nothing.

* * *

It didn't take that long to break their way in- yet another crime they'd committed in all the chaos. Still, Barbara wasn't entirely sure it could be considered as breaking and entering considering the building wasn't exactly owned by anyone anymore. Instead, it had turned into a shell, an empty hideaway for the poor souls who sought refuge inside it, just as she, Diane, John, and her father sought refuge in their safe house. There was nowhere to hide these days, and safety was a thing of the past.

Barbara was amazed these people had made it as long as they had. Then again, they weren't stupid.

A small curse escaped her lips as she rubbed her hands together, fighting against the almost sub-zero temperature of the hallway she was currently stood in. Diane again sighed beside her but lifted the torch in her hands to illuminate their way.

The hallway was all but empty, filled only with what looked like overturned filing trays and cabinets. The debris of papers and cabinets was oddly at war with the somewhat grand interior decor of the place. Even in the dark, the plush carpeting was unmistakable underfoot, and the glint of marble walls was only brightened by the torchlight. What could Barbara say? Wayne Enterprises was exactly like she'd thought it'd be.

"This way," she murmured a moment later, finally beginning to make her way through the chaos. "They'll be in the upper offices if my guess is right - they're easier to defend than these lower levels."

"And you know that how Miss War-strategist?"

"Because we just broke in down here," Barbara replied back with a soft roll of her eyes.

Diane paused. "Good point."

"Duh."

The two girls shared a look between them as both tried not to smirk. This really was insane: two trainee attorneys, stuck in the middle of a war zone, breaking into a corporate office to find the man who'd been supplying the Batman with his armour and gear. Where did the insanity end?

Hopefully, with them, Barbara thought determinedly, her fists clenching at the thought. Hopefully, this would work and Gotham would have a new hope - a new chance to make it out of this hell in one piece. Was that really so much to ask for?

Barbara was almost too scared to consider it, so instead chose to focus on sneaking her way through the bowels of Wayne Enterprises, Diane beside her. Together they followed the unsteady torch beam as their guide and maneuvered their way up sealed staircases and through empty offices. The whole building had an eerie air to it… so still, so silent, so dark and empty.

However, eventually, the two girls stopped. They'd reached the end of a narrow corridor, and stood before a set of heavy duty doors. This was it and they knew it. Diane shot Barbara a look full of hesitation, and Barbara couldn't deny she felt the same, even as they pulled the doors open and slid into the chaos that lay beyond.

* * *

Whatever they'd been expecting to find, it was safe to say this was not it.

Barbara had never been to Wayne Enterprises before, but she highly doubted that the upper office floors had ever been designed to become a refugee camp. Overturned desks and tables made for makeshift shelters, accompanied by burning waste paper bins - the only sources of heat in the barren building.

What was more startling than that, was the sight of hundreds of ex-employees, still dressed in their fine suits (albeit now tattered and hidden beneath blankets and parker coats) huddling together as if this was somehow normal.

It filled Barbara's heart with an odd sense of pity. As hard as it may have seemed, hiding in a cramped safe house apartment, it was clearly luxury compared to the hell these people had had to endure the past months. The thought was a harrowing one as Barbara nervously skirted the edge of the room, keeping close to the shadows to avoid notice. She didn't know why she felt so guilty and helpless - this was on Bane, not her. She was not the one who had caused this - if anything this was what she was fighting to stop: this injustice, this senseless chaos, and suffering.

Diane clearly felt the same, or so Barbara guessed as she watched Diane's uneasy side glances at the room around her and the people in it. As much as she had fought Barbara about this, declaring it crazy and senseless, even she couldn't deny that the city needed them. People needed them.

With a weak huff, Barbara stood on her toes, craning her neck as she tried to spot him… the one she'd come for. Luckily, it didn't take long to spy him, sat against the wall across the room.

To anyone else, Lucius Fox didn't look like himself. Anyone else would have probably denied it even was him if they were to see him at that moment, sat there, head bowed in thought. He was dressed in a thick, but tired looking, green coat. His hair seemed to have also greyed a little more than when Barbara had last seen him, but that was to be expected - as was the tired and haggard expression he wore.

This was Gotham at war. It was enough to drain anybody.

Still, despite it all, Barbara's eidetic memory wasn't likely to forget a face - not one as crucial as this one. His face looked identical to his pictures in the press, and they'd met once or twice. It was more than enough for Barbara to make a confident confirmation

"There," she whispered, gesturing with her head. "That's him."

Diane took her lead, strolling over with a sense of ease. "Excuse me," Diane began calmly as she finally reached his side. "Are you Mr. Lucius Fox?"

As soon as she spoke the man they'd been staring at turned, giving them a long look. He seemed startled to have been addressed by them and a little nervous.

He raised an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest. "Depends who's asking."

Barbara sighed, stepping forward from the shadows. She didn't blame him for being nervous at all. If the roles were reversed she'd be exactly the same. He couldn't afford to be careless. If Bane found the head of Wayne Enterprises applied sciences division, who knew what would happen. One thing was for sure - it would not be good.

"Me," she answered smoothly, giving him a weak smile. "My name's Barbara Gordon, and this is my friend Diane Lance." She gestured to her friend beside her. Diane smiled kindly also.

Lucius seemed to have heard them for he stopped, eyes widening in recognition. "Gordon? … As in… Commissioner Gordon?" he asked curiously.

"Yes. He's… He's my dad…"

"I remember now. Well, it's an honour to see you again Miss Gordon, and you too Miss Lance." He reached over and shook their hands in his. They felt ice cold. That's what weeks in a heating-less building did to you Barbara assumed. "What can I do for you two?"

Diane looked around them at the busy hall and paused. "Is there anywhere we could talk that's a little more... private?" she asked slowly.

Lucius followed her eyes and nodded, understanding her completely. "Come this way. There's a spare office in here. We should be able to talk there." He pointed to a long corridor beside them which he ushered them down hastily.

Both girls said nothing, merely following in reply. In fact, no one said anything until the door was finally shut and bolted behind them, leaving the three of them standing awkwardly in a deserted office.

"Mr. Fox-" Barbara finally began shakily, desperate to break the rising tension.

"Call me Lucius," he interrupted, but not without a smile as he added, "please."

"Well then, Lucius," Diane acknowledged warmly. "We have a favour to ask you. It's... It's a little unusual."

To his credit, Lucius Fox didn't seem troubled by that statement. If Barbara didn't know better she'd have almost sworn he looked excited by it. "Oh really? I'll see what I can do to be of any assistance to you."

* * *

Lucius frowned, resting his head against the tips of his fingers. He was still processing what he'd just heard. Or at least, what he believed he'd just heard.

"I'm sorry?" he managed weakly, shaking his head as he finally found the ability to speak. He was still a little in shock.

"I know. It does sound insane-"

"But we would only ask for a suit-"

"By suit we mean, not like an Armani. As in, Kevlar-"

The two girls overlapped each other, finishing each other's sentences in a mad gush, ending with the two of them looking like guilty children. They stood side by side, hoping the man in front of them would listen. Barbara knew this was insane to even be asking him but they had no other choice. At least he'd listened to them so far.

"What makes you think I can help?" he asked, leaning back in the worn office chair, acting innocent to the girls' implications. Barbara could see that Diane didn't buy the act any more than she did.

Diane took a step forward, frowning and shaking her head. Barbara felt bad for Lucius. Diane was back in lawyer mode, and god help Lucius if he didn't comply.

"Mr. Fox, it doesn't take a genius to work out that this is where Batman got his stuff," Diane began again, smiling softly at him. "Millions of dollars are pumped through this department. Your previous intern- the one who attempted to blackmail you?- he didn't cover his tracks too well either."

Lucius continued to frown. He didn't seem to want to budge.

"Please... Lucius," Barbara began, trying to save them time. "Don't make us do this. We know the truth. You know it too."

There was silence for a few minutes as the parties looked at each other.

"You- you want to become vigilantes?" He asked weakly, breaking the silence finally. He looked up, scratching his jaw with his fingers. He looked confused, to say the least. "When the entire city is under the control of a madman who wants to kill the Batman? How old even are you both?"

"Twenty."

Diane answered him calmly, making it sound like she had just said thirty.

Barbara crossed her arms across her chest, leaning her weight against the desk behind her. "And just because everyone thinks the Batman has gone, abandoned them, that doesn't mean the Bat has. They need something to believe in, someone to bring them hope. We may not be the Batman himself, but there's still gangs, still lonely psychopaths out there that need stopping; and a warlord controlling our city."

"I can't let children go out there! I can't endorse that," said Fox angrily, waving his arms in protest, almost ignoring her argument altogether. "Especially now of all times!"

"Who else though? Who else is there to help?" Diane interrupted, desperate to enlist his co-operation.

"Besides," Barbara smirked silently, "what makes you think that we won't fight anyway?"

Lucius regarded her for a moment, all five foot six of her, then the corner of his mouth twitched into a small smile. It was then Barbara saw it; respect in his eyes.

"Well, seeing as if I don't help you," he groaned, shaking his head back and forth, "you'll probably get hurt. I'm just stopping you from getting killed, aren't I? I suppose I'll have to help?"

Barbara laughed shakily, relief and excitement flowing through her. "Thank you so much."

"And if you want these suits before next year, we're going to have to start planning?"

"What? Don't you have stuff already made? Like, in a cupboard or something?" Diane chuckled softly.

Lucius shook his head, chuckling weakly. "Not anything that will fit you. Now, I can adapt some of the plans for Batman's suit, but I'm assuming you'll want some design input?"

Barbara raised an eyebrow, composure recovered. "Naturally. Now, I've seen the Batman's suit, and although it is great, I was thinking a different commission might work better for us."

Diane nodded, echoing her friend's response. "Yep. Something a little less... Macho might be good?"

Fox smiled. "Good... I'm glad to see you've put some thought into this," he chuckled lightly, rubbing his hands together, seeming a little more excited than he had a moment ago. He reached for a scrap of paper from the desk and scribbled something in biro. "Meet me here. In an hour. Make sure you're not followed," he instructed with a laugh. "Then I'll see what I can do."

She nodded. "Of course. Thank you."

"Well, see you in an hour then ladies," Lucius smiled weakly, "Don't be late."

* * *

Exactly one hour later, Barbara and Diane were stood, staring around them with matching dumbfounded expressions.

"He has got to be playing with us," Diane declared in disbelief. "This cannot be where he wanted to meet us."

"What makes you say that?" Barbara mused, taking in the sight for herself. She checked the scrap of paper clutched in her gloved hands and sighed as she saw the address once more. This was it. This was the spot.

Considering they'd both been expecting something a little more out of James Bond, needless to say, they were a little more than confused to find themselves in a warehouse district of all places. Why was Fox wanting to meet them in a shipping yard?

Barbara gulped as she eyed the rows and rows of rusted crates stacked around her, dreading to think what could be inside.

"Which number is it again?" Diane whispered.

Barbara paused, eyeing the scrap of paper she held in her hand. "288 b," she replied. "It should just be the one at the end."

"That one?" Diane scoffed, staring at what appeared to be an abandoned, lone crate. The sides were painted in a rusted brown colour and it seemed no bigger than a cupboard. "He must be kidding. I mean, this is where the genius keeps his toys? In a box by the ocean?"

Barbara wished she had answers. "Apparently so."

She stopped, reaching for the handle as she managed to pry open the creaking door. Immediately the smell of rust and seawater filled her nostrils as they stepped into the cramped space. It really was no bigger than the size of a small garage, and all that filled it seemed to be half empty crates of fishing gear and abandoned shipping containers.

"So," Diane whistled, eyeing the room suspiciously. "Is he pranking us or…?"

"I have no clue-" Barbara began. However, she never finished the sentence as a metallic whining sound echoed around them. Her eyes darted about, but she was unable to locate the source of the noise. "What the-?" Barbara murmured, only to be answered in a rather metallic voice overhead.

"Scan complete. Access granted. Welcome, Miss Barbara Gordon and Miss Diane Lance."

Barbara blinked. Diane actually looked as if she were ready to fall over in disbelief as the whole room began to move around them. Well, to be more precise the floor began to move, lowering them downwards into the earth below.

"What the fuck?"

Diane's words could not have been apter as both girls stood in complete and absolute shock. Had the crate, building or whatever, been programmed to recognize them? By voice? This seriously was high tech. They really were playing in the big leagues.

Finally, the unusual ride stopped, jolting them both as the floor and the world around them ground to a halt.

Barbara was the first to shake herself free of her stupor, stepping forwards into the inky darkness that surrounded them. It was almost impossible to make anything out about the secret location they had been brought to.

"Where on earth are we?" she whispered, although the echo that followed hinted at the sheer size of the place.

Thankfully, she was answered as footsteps snagged their attention, and the lights around them flickered on revealing none other than the man that had brought them here.

"Lucius?" Diane gasped, eyes widening in recognition. The man looked rather amused, to say the least. "What the hell is this place?"

"Welcome, ladies," he chuckled, looking remarkably satisfied with himself and his deception. It was clear where Batman's dramatic flair came from. "This is one of Batman's humble abodes."

"An underground bunker at the docks?" Barbara spluttered, finally risking to step off the platform and into the cavernous space.

"Where else?"

Diane also finally stepped into the room, trying not to gape wide-eyed at what exactly she was seeing. It was pretty impressive. The sheer size of the place, as well as what it contained… how they'd managed this was beyond her comprehension.

"It's not on any city plans."

"The Batman doesn't exactly follow the rules, Miss Lance," Lucius chuckled softly, turning back to the cases behind him. "He has his ways."

"You're telling me."

The room around them looked like some underground garage, full of random crates and glass cabinets, the content of which was impossible to try and comprehend. It was like they were on some field trip to a museum, the way both girls eyed everything with excitement and intrigue.

"If you'd both follow me?"

Lucius didn't hover to see if they answered. Instead, he strolled away to the far side of the room and what appeared to be a metallic workbench. Of course, Diane and Barbara followed him, sharing a mutual look of amazement, and a slight hint of excitement.

"Here we are." Lucius reached forward, opening the lid of one of the steel containers beside him. He reached inside and removed two different packages. The first, he pushed towards Diane. The second, he handed to Barbara. "Go ahead, open them up."

It was a distorted Christmas, as both girls revealed their gifts and held them up to the light.

The suits were beyond anything either of them could ever have imagined. Lucius Fox had really outdone himself this time.

"The suits should be both flexible enough to allow you to move, and also strong enough to resist impact from any attacker," Lucius began, sounding both pleased and wary of his own creations. "I will warn you though; it won't protect you from up close attack from anything like knives. You will have to be very careful."

Lucius Fox eyed the two females before him with concern. It was apparent that, despite his co-operation, the man remained unsure of what to feel about this.

Barbara, however, was too distracted by what she had been presented with to fully notice Lucius' dilemma. She nodded to his warning, slowly rubbing the material between her fingers. It was surprisingly light to the touch.

 _So this was what the Batman wore?_

She paused.

She was really doing this, wasn't she? It all suddenly felt very real. There was no going back now. It was here she made her choice.

"We'll be careful. What else you got?" Diane asked after Barbara's failure to say anything.

Lucius gestured beside him to a large looking stack of crates. He couldn't help the faint trace of a smile that lingered about his face as he turned. "I think it's quite safe to say, Miss Lance, I've got quite a selection."

Barbara looked at the wide empty space around them and grinned with a new enthusiasm. This could work. Whereas before it had all been a hypothetical, based on anger and determination and a vision in the back of her mind… Now, it had become a real, tangible dream. One that could perhaps succeed after all.

She was sure of it.

"So you're sure Bane and his goons haven't found this place yet?" Barbara queried softly, trying to make sure this was as good as it seemed.

Lucius nodded. "Well, if they had Miss Gordon I think it's safe to say we wouldn't be standing here."

"This is perfect," Diane agreed, looking between the two of them. "It's just what we need if we're to have even a slither of a chance out there at bringing back some good."

"I'm glad you think so Miss Lance but, are you two sure about this? It's going to be dangerous, and it's going to be tough. Do you think you're up for the challenge?"

Barbara smiled at Lucius reassuringly. "I think we can handle it. Besides if we don't, no one else will. Gotham needs some hope right now. We need to give it to them."

Lucius nodded happier than before, clearly sensing their determination. "I knew I liked you, Miss Gordon. You're just like your father. Did you know that?"

"I've heard it once or twice," Barbara chuckled softly.


	14. Chapter 13

**_Merry Christmas everybody! It's 1 am over here in England but I couldn't resist posting this as it was basically finished and on time - so apologies if there are any mistakes. I also promised the angel that is highlander348 that I'd post this today, so I couldn't let them down. You've all been patient enough, so I felt you'd earned some action. Till next time, feel free to follow, review or message me about anything you want or even just to say hi! Thesilentmage x_**

* * *

It was a few nights later that Barbara and Diane chose their moment, the moment to trial run their crazy scheme. Thankfully, it was a night that John and her father had chosen to hold another one of their meetings across town. It made sneaking out of the apartment a lot easier, as both girls had crept into the dwindling sunset and made their way back across to the harbour.

Everything was just as they left it.

The equipment was waiting for them, propped across numerous stands and crates, just as Fox had last left it after their demonstration.

The excitement they had felt that afternoon hadn't dwindled, even if it was now accompanied by a sickening sense of terror and apprehension. The reality had slowly sunk in with every passing hour, and that night it hit Barbara like a freight train.

Barbara slowly turned, eyeing herself in the mirror with complete awe. She didn't recognise herself at all.

The skin tight black armour revealed her hourglass figure with surprising clarity, even hidden beneath her old beat up purple leather jacket. However, with the slender black cowl on top, she was un-recognisable.

The whole outfit was far more lightweight than Batman's armour, but then again it wasn't as if she was the same size or build as Bruce Wayne. Besides, the benefits meant she was actually able to turn her head - something Lucius had smirked at when she requested it.

Slowly she adjusted the half cape hanging loosely from the back of her outfit and turned, feeling the way the suit bent and adjusted to her movements. The flash of yellow lining underneath was enough to make her lips quirk into a grin.

She had to admit it. This was pretty cool. Lucius Fox really had outdone himself. The man was a frigging genius. The material alone was a scientific miracle, and how he'd managed to work the inner circuitry to work within such a casing… it was enough to make even her have a science fangirl moment. If she was going to succeed with this venture she was going to need flexibility after all. Her fighting style was not built on the brute strength the Batman's was.

No longer did she see the boring, professional woman she was so accustomed to seeing. Instead, there was this; the silent woman staring back at her, ready for war.

The only clue to her true identity was her vibrant red hair, hanging down her back. Barbara reached up with her gloved hand and ran her fingers through it slowly, destroying her doubts that this was really her.

For what felt like an eternity, she didn't say anything. However, her trance was broken a few seconds later by the sound of footsteps on the concrete floor. Barbara looked up, stepping back from the mirrors. Her head turned toward the other end of the warehouse, and the figure that was standing there.

Even though Barbara knew who the only other person inside the base could be, her eyes widened as she struggled to identify the woman before her.

"Barbara," Diane began, looking at her with the same awestruck expression as she was wearing at that moment. "Wow. You … you look … different."

Barbara smiled weakly, nodding at her friend, taking in her new appearance. Diane looked just as different as she did.

Whereas Barbara's suit was more like armour, padded beneath a leather exterior, Diane's was looser, more like chain mail. It clung to her body in a tight bottom layer. On top though, she had a thin spandex shirt, accompanied by heavy leather trousers and a matching jacket. Her lustrous blond hair was hanging in curls over her shoulders making her seem like some runway model. It just made Barbara wanted to laugh. The final accessory to the outfit was the black mask placed across her face, concealing enough to keep her identity a secret.

Still, despite the high tech incorporated in both the designs, Barbara couldn't help but think they looked like they were wearing Halloween costumes for a party - Barbara almost believed they were. She couldn't really wrap her head around the real reason for all this, dressed in such outfits, standing in an abandoned dockside basement in the middle of the night.

Barbara smiled softly. "You look… just as different," she managed, gesturing to Diane's new outfit. "And also ridiculously badass."

"Why, thank you," Diane replied, doing a small mock turn, displaying herself like a mannequin. "I have to admit, it feels good, like I belong in it - Which is weird."

"I know what you mean," Barbara replied thoughtfully. She glanced back over her shoulder at herself in the mirrors. "I feel… powerful… I wonder if it's how he feels when he wears it?"

"Probably," Diane answered, knowing to whom Barbara was referring. "Although, maybe we should say when he _wore_ it. It isn't like he's running around in it anymore."

Barbara sighed. "Yeah, but it's fine. We're here. We don't need him anymore."

She sounded surer than she actually was. Deep down, part of her still wondered if she was doing the right thing. It was one thing to dream something so crazy in her head. It was another to actually follow it through.

"You got that right," Diane replied, breaking Barbara's thoughts. "It's you and me, Babs… you ready for this?"

"More than ever," she stated firmly, lifting her chin a little higher. "We're partners, remember? Now, we make them hurt."

"Couldn't agree more. So… where do we start?"

Barbara grinned, heading over to the corner of the room. "Let's just say I've got a few ideas."

And she did. In fact, for the past few days, they had both been planning extensively what exactly they were about to do. Maps, schematics, timetables, readouts… you name it, it was plastered to the back wall like something out of a detective movie. Every detail, every inch of the city - they had tried to analyze it all.

Needless to say, the past few days had been an utter blur for them both. On top of planning the theory of the mission, both Diane and Barbara had been preparing physically. Barbara was no ninja expert, but she knew enough from her years in martial arts to make sure Diane was up to speed on the basics of how to defend herself - and more importantly, how to take somebody else on.

There was a sense of Deja Vu as Barbara ran Diane in the numerous drills and exercises she herself had been taught years ago. They'd spent hours down here sparring and perfecting the moves. Diane had also shown her a few of her own, having spent enough time at self-defense classes at her local gym.

Thankfully, they wouldn't have to rely entirely on hand to hand skills though. Fox had made sure of that alright, arming them to the teeth with gadgets and gizmos galore. Barbara felt like she was in a James Bond movie. Speaking of which…

"What is that?" she demanded, pointing to the choker like device currently sitting around her best friend's neck. She hadn't noticed it until then until Diane had turned her head and revealed it in the chemical white lighting overhead.

"This?" Diane grinned immediately as she pointed to her neck. She looked almightily pleased with herself for some reason. "It's a high-frequency canon Fox had lying around, but I figured there's a more fun way to use it."

"Oh?"

Diane grinned, gesturing enthusiastically for Barbara to take several giant steps backward. "Watch - oh, and cover your ears."

Before Barbara had a chance to ask what exactly Diane was about to do, she opened her mouth and let out one of the most deafening screams Barbara had ever heard. The fact it sent several boxes and cases crashing across the room from the shockwaves was enough to tell Barbara it worked other than just deafening everyone nearby.

"Wow." She blinked, eyeing the destruction. If this was what it could do to random objects, she could only imagine what it could do to real live people. "That's… cool?"

"Hell yes, it is. Fox adjusted it so it's voice-activated rather than manual."

The man's talents never ceased. No wonder Diane was so smug, the device was pretty cool. That, and it was probably going to come in handy. Who knew what was waiting for them out there in the night?

"Now I want one," Barbara smirked. "Trust you to get the cool toys. Luckily, I have a few of my own."

Her fingers curled around the edge of the tarp that had sat waiting patiently beside her. She yanked it back, revealing the two items hidden beneath.

Diane's jaw dropped. "We… we get bikes? These are… incredible!"

"Well, unless you wanna run everywhere around the whole of Gotham?"

Barbara made a good point, but still, the two motorbikes that sat there were enough to make even her heart race. Her fingers traced the handlebars delicately as if caressing the beautiful machine before her.

Diane did the same, squatting down to examine the bikes for herself. Her gaze was every bit as appreciative as Barbara's. So much so, Barbara almost didn't hear her when she asked, "What do you think we should call ourselves?"

Diane's casual question wasn't really a surprise. If Barbara was being honest, it was a topic she had given a great deal of thought to the past few days. The Batman had always been just that, declaring his name as a sign as well as creating an intimidating sense of anonymity. It pretty much said what he was on the tin.

But what was she? That was something Barbara had trouble deciding.

"I was thinking of 'The Black Canary'," Diane continued. Her hands spread wide in front of her as if gesturing to some unseen imaginary billboard somewhere, with her name sprawled across it in neon lights. "What do you think?"

Barbara paused, mulling the name over on the tip of her tongue. "Black Canary, huh?"

Diane stood back up, looking almost sheepish with giddy pride. "I mean it works you know, with the whole canon thing. It's like a canary singing turned lethal. That's why Fox named it 'the canary cry'. Guess he liked his sense of irony."

It was hard not to laugh a little. "So do you apparently."

"What can I say?" Diane shrugged. Her eyes drifted downwards to her armoured body. "Besides, my outfit is all black. It makes sense, and it felt like a superhero kind of name - The Canary doesn't quite have the same ring to it."

Barbara finally gave in, letting the laugh escape her throat. Seemed Diane was getting behind this idea after all, more so than even Barbara. "I think it's perfect," she beamed.

Diane beamed back proudly. It was as if merely by saying the name out loud she had become the superhero, suddenly standing a little taller than before. Still, there was a hesitancy as she turned her gaze towards Barbara. "What about you?"

"Batwoman," she finally answered, running her hand over the symbol she'd had Fox carve into the chest plate. The bat was clear for all to see, especially due to the fact it was painted a bright yellow, contrasting vibrantly to the deep inky depths of the black.

She'd requested it for one simple reason: unlike the Batman, she wasn't hiding who she was, or what her purpose was. The symbol in the sky had always inspired hope for the people of Gotham. Now, she was a walking beacon for it.

"I think the Bat should be represented again, a reminder of who we are and what we stand for. We're continuing his legacy after all. Gotham needs to know it's not alone."

Diane looked as if she couldn't agree more, even if there was a more wistful hint about her expression as she gazed at her friend and the symbol on her chest. "Nervous?"

"No, I'm not nervous," Barbara said, not taking her eyes away from the symbol on her chest.

Well, that was the biggest lie she'd ever told.

"Lying to me? Yeesh," Diane giggled, nudging her stomach lightly with her elbow. "You're being childish."

Barbara just smirked back, laughing at her teasing. At least she was making her smile. There was a lot to be said for that. It meant she spent less time panicking about all the ways she could mess this up.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too." Diane teased, knowing full well the impact she was having on her friend. "I'm just grateful your Dad's meetings mean he won't be home enough to worry about where we are."

Barbara sighed in reluctant agreement. "Every kid's supposed to have a rebellious stage right? Guess mine came a bit late… I didn't really have this in mind when I thought about sneaking out as a kid."

"Well then, let's hit the streets," Diane chirped eagerly. "Time to put that rebellious spirit to good use. Do you even know how to ride one of these things?"

Barbara smirked with private satisfaction, kicking in the stand and beginning to wheel the bike over towards the lift platform. "I know I said I was a good kid, Di, but I wasn't a saint. Ask my first girlfriend, Erica Vandermeer."

"Wha-"

It was clear Diane had about another hundred questions to follow up that particular revelation, but she didn't have the chance as the floor began to move underneath them. They would have to wait till later. For now, they had work to do.

* * *

Gotham at night was a whole different city. It had always been that way. It was a rough and wild place, where horrors poured forth into the night, ready to claim it as their own. Needless to say, Bane and the ensuing chaos had only worked them into a frenzy. It was as if they had multiplied, swarming the streets in droves, filling the night with the distant sound of chaos and destruction.

However, that night a new sound entered into the symphony of chaos. The sound of two bike engines roaring through the night was enough to send even Barbara and Diane's hearts soaring.

True, it took a few near misses for them both to adjust how to handle the devices. It wasn't quite the same as riding a Harley Davidson - Lucius Fox packed a hell of a lot more of a punch, and the icy tarmac wasn't the ideal testing track.

Still, they drove for a while, enjoying the buzz of adrenaline that flooded their veins from the icy wind whipping at them, from the rumble of the engine between their thighs, and from feeling for the first time in a long time as if they were truly free - even if for a single moment.

It was almost like they were flying and in a weird way, despite the sheer terror pumping through their veins, Barbara felt more alive than she ever had before. She felt euphoric. This… this was what she was meant to do, and at that moment, speeding towards chaos, she knew she'd found exactly where she belonged.

* * *

There was one sound you got used to in Gotham, one you always recognised beyond all others, even through the sirens and the chaos of life in the city. Screams. Terror. There was nothing so bone-chilling as that.

Even above the purr of the engine, the sound of the screams pierced Barbara's ears, turning her interest from the road ahead. She wasn't the only one to hear it either.

Diane's voice crackled into life through the comms unit in her ear. "Did you hear that?"

Barbara nodded, turning to look at her partner beside her. "Let's pull over."

Both of them did exactly that, silencing the engines as they ground to a halt a few feet away, tucked behind the end of an alleyway. It didn't take long for them to hear the scream again, and it seemed to be coming from just up ahead.

Their feet did the work, guiding them toward whatever trouble was coming from an alley tucked into the side of the street. It was almost pitch black, save for a flickering light planted on a wall some distance ahead.

In the flickering bursts of chemical yellow light, Barbara and Diane saw the scene playing out.

There appeared to be about four of them. Four men, all of different builds but dressed in tattered clothing, clustered together like a pack of dogs. To be fair, they weren't much better as they circled their prey.

Their prey was a girl. The girl didn't look much older than the pair of them did, trembling as she clutched at what appeared to be a torn duffel bag. All around her lay what Barbara assumed had been the contents, with cans and miscellaneous other pieces of food lying discarded on the pavement.

"Please," she whimpered, cowering with her back against the wall ahead. She was penned in. No way out. "Take the food and leave me alone."

The terror in her voice drove itself straight into Barbara's heart. She suddenly felt the urge to make the men hurt… badly. The leather inlay of her glove creaked as she curled her palm into a fist.

"Now, now now. Why would we do that?" purred one of the men in a sickly arrogant voice. His whole demeanour was arrogant, from the way he swaggered about the place, to the way his eyes sized up the girl and the bag like they were a piece of merchandise. He was taunting her. Playing with her.

"Plan, Red?" Diane whispered harshly, reminding Barbara she was stood beside her. The growl was enough to tell Barbara she shared her sentiments regarding these scumbags. "I assume you have one."

"Yeah, save her?"

Diane looked very much as if she wanted to roll her eyes in that moment. "Besides that?" she added.

Barbara paused. Her eyes took in the scene. Her mind tried to run calculations, but the truth was she knew it wasn't about that. They'd spent the last week working in theories, now it was time for doing instead.

"You take the left two, I take the right?"

Diane considered it, and nodded. It was as good a plan as any. It wasn't like she had a genius scheme ready to contribute anyway. So, she squeezed her arm once more. It was clear enough: be careful and good luck.

Barbara gulped in preparation. She tried to ignore the tremors in her hands, which were either the result of the cold night air, or the paralysing fear that had suddenly settled in her gut. "Here goes nothing."

Before she could second guess this entire mad operation she stepped forward and out into the flickering light.

"Hey!" she bellowed, trying to hide the slight tremor in her voice. "Didn't your mothers ever teach you when someone says no it means no?"

Her voice carried down the alleyway with surprising surety, making the men ahead turn in surprise. However, as soon as they saw who was responsible they looked amused rather than intimidated. Clearly, their look lacked the threatening appeal… or had that been due more to Bruce's size than anything?

"Back off, freaks!" he automatically bellowed.

The one beside him grinned in support, turning away from the girl to sneer at them. "Yeah! Halloween's already been, freaks. This town doesn't belong to you costumed losers anymore."

He had a point. It hadn't for a long time; Gotham had been absent a hero for far too long. But that changed, and it changed now.

"Well then, boys," Diane sighed, stepping outside beside Barbara, and into the fluorescent light. In her hands she lazily twirled the two batons she'd armed herself with, pretending as best as possible to be the least bit upset that negotiating hadn't worked. Barbara felt braver immediately, knowing her friend was right there beside her. "You don't wanna play nice? Seems we're gonna have to teach you ourselves."

Then she struck. Barbara followed her lead.

Barbara flipped neatly, as if she were back in her gym class all over again. The concrete was hard and cold against her palms as she span, striking out sharply with a set of punches that sent the first man staggering.

She ignored the assailant she was dodging, especially as she landed, and slammed her heel into his face. Her eyes swiveled, taking in every detail as it occurred.

"On your left!" she cried.

Luckily Diane caught her warning, twisting as she drove her baton round to smack the assailant she had almost missed in the face.

She didn't miss Diane's grin as she watched the man fall, before turning to handle the last remaining man on her left. Planting her feet firmly and tapping the collar around her neck Diane let out a wail.

Barbara knew exactly what was about to happen, but it didn't make seeing it any less satisfying as the man flew back into the wall with all the force of a hurricane. He fell to the floor and crumpled into a heap.

"I really need to get me one of those!" she smirked, turning her attention back to her own remaining target.

But she was too slow. Losing focus for even those few seconds had cost her as she swivelled back, only to receive a fist to the face.

Barbara hissed, reeling from the strike. She turned, spitting the mouthful of blood to the ground before retaliating with speed.

The self defence classes she had used to take at the local community centre had always said the same thing. Strike fast. Strike hard. Don't give an opponent an opening. So, for that reason, Barbara struck with brutal speed and force, using her own momentum to swivel herself around him, and flip him to the floor.

The man hit the floor. Hard. He groaned, lying there utterly still.

Almost as swiftly as the conflict had begun, it had ended. Like that night in the alleyway, Barbara ended her adrenaline high by staring at the array of unconscious bodies at her feet. It was why she whispered hastily under her breath, "This is becoming a habit."

The girl could have been her. Just over a week ago it had been. She remembered the terror that coursed through her veins that night, knowing how alone she'd been - how vulnerable. How many nights had she wandered these same streets, hand nervously clutching her keys in her coiled fist, waiting for a similar situation to befall her?

But this… all of this had been different.

Just as she had the week before, she was armed. She was no longer scared.

For the first time, Barbara hadn't been alone. She was a part of something greater than herself. She had someone to watch her back, just as fiercely as she'd watch theirs. She wasn't the only one standing up to those supposedly bigger or stronger than she was. Because of that, they'd saved someone.

That made this whole crusade worth it, even just for that one moment. To think she could be able to recreate this feeling again… to save someone else… it was enough to dilute the fear in her soul, purging it from her very being, allowing it to be replaced by a sense of excitement, of purpose.

Barbara paused, her attention returning to the reason they'd attempted this crazy thing in the first place. Diane, however, was already one step ahead.

Hesitantly, Diane had made her way back down the alley towards the cowering girl. There was a tenderness as Diane approached, watching her the way one did a wounded animal.

Her hand extended slowly, waiting for the woman to uncurl herself and accept it.

It took several long moments, but eventually she did. The woman hesitantly dropped her arms from around her head and eyed them both with a mixture of wonder and disbelief. The fear didn't disappear entirely, but she clearly realised that they weren't there to hurt her.

"Who… who are you?" she whispered in a voice that was so fragile.

"Friends," Diane replied earnestly, urging the woman to take her hand. As soon as she did Diane helped her to her trembling feet. "You're safe now."

"Thank you," the woman sobbed, wiping at her eyes roughly with the back of her sleeve.

"Just get home safely, ok?" Barbara soothed, giving her as reassuring a smile as she could manage. It took everything she had to ignore the sudden instinct inside to give the woman a hug.

Clearly, she had to direct that internal anger elsewhere, and as her eyes drifted from their now hastily retreating friend, back to the thug by her feet, it was clear who her intended target was.

They'd missed one.

For the few moments they had turned away, one of the guys had tried to crawl his way to the end of the alley and to freedom. Shame he hadn't crawled faster.

"Wait, where do you think you're going?"

The frozen gravel crunched under foot as she marched over. The man tried to crawl away from her, but he didn't get far. She snatched the back of his shirt, flipping him over and kneeling in close enough that her face was mere centimetres from his.

"I've got a message for you, your boss and the rest of you scumbags." Barbara grinned wickedly as she leant in closer, tightening her grip on his shirt. "The Bat's back… The name is Batwoman, and that is Black Canary - tell your friends they better start running, because this is our city and we're not going anywhere. Capiche?"

The man groaned, and with that, she dropped him back to the ground, unconscious. He'd got the message loud and clear.

Barbara had never felt more alive.

Well, she did, until her body realised the battle was over. Then it was as if all her energy evaporated, leaving her feeling more exhausted than she'd ever felt before - and considering how many hours she spent between gymnastics classes, martial arts and schoolwork, that was saying something.

"Well. That was badass."

"Oh god, I need to start working out again," Barbara groaned, feeling her whole body barking in protest at what she had just done. The fact Diane dropped to lie prone on the icy ground beside her said she felt similarly. "I feel like I just ran a mile."

"That would be the adrenaline talking… How on earth did Batman manage this every night?" Diane whimpered in reply.

"I have no idea."

"Me neither."

"We make a hell of a team though," she wheezed, trying not to laugh as Diane rolled her eyes and tried to sit up again. "That moment you blasted the guy with your necklace? I wish we'd got that recorded."

"Tell me that again tomorrow when I'm feeling just how sore I am."

"Deal."

Her hand reached out, helping her friend to her unsteady feet.

With that, they took off, sinking back into the shadows they'd come from, proud in the knowledge that Gotham was just that little bit safer because of them. The night may have been young, but already hope was soon to start spreading - because of them, because of the Batwoman and the Black Canary.

* * *

Sunlight was beginning to surface on the horizon, piercing its way between the slatted blinds of her bedroom.

Barbara Gordon watched it, curled up on the window ledge, with an odd sense of fascination. For some reason, it was as if she had never seen the sunrise over Gotham before. It was as if she had never seen Gotham before - not truly.

They had arrived back a couple hours ago. Much to their relief, they had beaten both John and her father back as well. The whole house had been silent and still upon their arrival, indicating it was just as they had left it.

She had left her gear and armour back in the bunker, changing back into her clothes before returning back home. Now that she was home, she was more than grateful to swap them for a comfy pair of oversized pyjamas.

It had been a hell of a night, and a hell of a debut. Maybe it was the adrenaline that was stopping her from sleeping. Who knew, but there was definitely something in the air, as if over night the world around her had shifted into something new - into something unrecognisable. Whether or not it was she that was different, not the city, she wasn't sure. Whatever it was, Barbara clung to it, embracing the energy swirling inside her and the hope it left in its wake.

For the first time since it had all started, since the world descended into chaos and madness, Barbara felt sane - honest to god sane. It was as if she had anchored herself, finding a clutch in this new reality. She had evolved in it into someone new, into something new. Watching the sun that morning, she was watching it rise on a new dawn.

With a weary smile, Barbara pried herself off of the window ledge. As she exited the bedroom, she stifled her yawn and shuffled towards the kitchen. Maybe a cup of tea would help her drop off. It had always worked in the past - something about cradling the warm mug in her hands always made her sleepy right away.

For that reason, she padded quietly into the hallway, careful to avoid every creaking floorboard she could. A lifetime of practise back home had made her nimble as she eased her way towards the kitchen.

However, as she rounded into the main room, she came across a sight that made all thoughts of tea disappear. The sight was that of a sleeping figure, lying sprawled out on the sofa as if he had been dropped onto it from a great height.

Barbara knew the figure well enough, even in the dim light of dawn, to recognise her father. When had he even come in? Barbara didn't remember hearing him, or John for that matter who she assumed must be asleep in his own room.

It wasn't exactly a surprise to see. The amount of times Barbara had caught her father asleep in weird places, like she had many a time in his office, was insane. He never seemed to know when to stop, always ploughing on till his body all but seemed to simply shut off, knocking him out for some much needed rest.

Barbara smiled warmly. He could use the sleep, so she decided not to wake him. Instead, she padded over to the sofa and removed the knitted blue throw that lay across it. Apparently, she wasn't the only one who'd had a productive night.

Barbara paused, delicately pulling the blanket up and over her father's sleeping figure. She then leant forward to kiss his head, wishing him a peaceful night - for once. They'd all earned it.

With that, she turned and retreated back to bed.


	15. Chapter 14

_**Good afternoon everybody. I hope everyone had an amazing Christmas and New Year. Here's another chapter for all you lovely people who messaged me after the last one. I'd also just like to point out that after some comments from the last chapter that you've got nothing to fear. Barbara will become Batgirl - and hopefully, by the end of this chapter, you'll see where I was going with this.**_

 _ **As always, please feel free to favourite, follow or review. I also love hearing from you guys if you wanna message me about anything or just say hi. I know I repeat this every chapter - so sorry! - it just means a lot to know people out there are reading and enjoying what I'm doing.**_

 _ **Thesilentmage x**_

* * *

Things may have been looking up in some ways for Barbara Gordon: her exploits with Diane every night had become almost routine, with a sense of purpose driving them both. However, in some ways, things very much weren't. The fact power across the city had begun to disappear, cut off by Bane's men or the power companies, they couldn't be sure. But on top of the lack of sleep and her activities, both during the day and nocturnal, things were starting to take their toll.

The lack of heat wasn't helping either, as the days grew colder and darker. The past few nights Diane and Barbara had even shared a bed for warmth, huddling under blankets to try and keep warm. Thankfully John found a portable heater stashed in the back of a cupboard in the hallway. They'd also found a standalone backup generator they could use on rare occasions if needed.

Diane had always joked the two of them should move in together, and Barbara had always dreamed of moving out so they that they could share a place of their own. Who knew her wish would also mean sharing a home with John and the Commissioner himself.

Then again, it wasn't like the hot water was any better.

"If I have to have another cold shower I'm going to scream," Barbara had vented, toweling her hair dry aggressively. "I miss warm water. I miss being warm. Period."

"Well, this flat is too small for people to start not showering," Diane had smirked, hurling another jumper at her. "Suck it up, Gordon."

So she had. Instead of whining, she had become adapted to their new way of life, not that she wasn't going to do everything within her power to fix it.

Barbara sat curled up in her chair, eyes firmly planted on the laptop screen in front of her. Lines of code whisked by her head with great speed, until she, at last, began to feel like she had fallen into the Matrix. Her fingers flew across the keys with great speed and precision, watching as a world was unlocked before her very eyes.

Of course, she had had a little previous experience. Having studied computer science as well as criminal law at university it was only natural that, on a few empty weekends she and her friends had had a little fun hacking various networks - Mainly a few basic government agencies and companies… nothing too grand. Except now – she was playing the big leagues - Dishing out line after line of coding, adding to the growing mountain.

She wasn't doing this lightly. She was taking everything she could. CCTV, emails, thermal imaging, private networks. Slowly, but surely, she was building her empire. She needed some help if she was going to take this seriously. That meant getting all the data she could.

The cup of tea Diane had made her a few hours previous sat cold and untouched just beyond her reach. She was so close.

Just as she went to deliver the kill the screen froze, flashing a red warning message. Barbara groaned, collapsing her head into her hands.

Blocked? Damn it.

This was the government. They must have upped the security on everything. That was only to be expected. If Bane's goons managed to hack their systems then all remaining hope from the outside world was lost.

Hence, they were being careful, and that meant she was stuck.

She literally felt like she was locked out by a large door. A door she knew would open. The only question was how? Well, that, and how long would it take to get it open again? Barbara didn't have all the time in the world, or the electricity either.

"Shit," she cursed, slamming her hand against the desk with a dull thud. "Guess I have to start from scratch… again."

* * *

Out in the kitchen, Diane sighed, grabbing the bowl of freshly made soup. It was all that she could find in the back of their depleted cupboards. It was enough for now anyway. She'd even managed to heat it so the food was warm.

She got up and began walking through to the small room Barbara had taken for her own. She knew her friend had been in there all day, yelling at anyone who disturbed her progress. But like it or not, Barbara Gordon had to eat.

"Babs," Diane began, entering the room. "Don't shoot. I bring you dinner, and guess what? It's warm-"

She stopped. She hadn't expected this.

It looked worse than the time both she and Barbara had received an assignment against a dick-head of a clerk at another firm. The arrogant prick was notorious for his success streak in court, and whereas Diane had spent the week relieving stress by watching teen chick flicks, Barbara had spent the following week burrowed in her office, only emerging when Diane threatened to call her father on her if she didn't go home and shower and sleep.

A determined Barbara Gordon was dangerous. An irritated Barbara Gordon was lethal. Then again, that was kind of hard to remember when she was the way she was, currently curled in the dark, on a swivel chair, buried beneath a blanket like it was some cape. The way her glasses were also perched on the edge of her nose was actually kind of adorable.

Diane blinked. She had barely even stepped into the room when Barbara held up a hand indicating silence. She was too focused on the screen opposite, and the sound of her fingers dancing on the keys was all that filled the air between them.

Diane paused. "Uh… Babs?"

"Yeah?" Barbara asked calmly back. Her eyes never left the screen in front of her.

"You're becoming obsessed."

"I'm merely trying to see if I can't contact the outside world. Get some help whilst the sun's actually up for once."

"You're the only person I've ever met who goes out of their way to make a hard challenge even harder. You know how crazy that is right?"

Barbara rolled her eyes. "And yet you still love me."

"Unfortunately. It doesn't help that we're also partners," Diane countered, perching on the edge of the chair, looking like she was trying remarkably hard not to smirk at the irony. "Your crazy is my crazy. I mean, look at us. We just swapped one desk for another. Unfortunately, we don't have any of those gyozas to share or pad Thai."

Barbara smiled warmly at the memory of their usual tradition. It had all started when they had first been partnered on a project and had ended up spending the night working in the office after Diane had declared that she was sleeping at her desk in the hope of trying to come up with an opening argument.

The pair of them had spent hours that night, surrounded by stacks of books and take out containers from the local Thai place. As such, any project from that point onwards pretty much followed the same routine.

"Shit," Barbara cursed. "Now I want ramen."

"Me too," Diane whined, head full of warm flavourful delicacies. "I also want you to put that laptop away, but we all know that won't happen anytime soon. Stupid stubborn idiot."

"Hey!"

"I'm simply being honest. Just make sure you eat something, please."

The plea was enough to erode what was left of Barbara's stubbornness. In fact, she went as far as to theatrically close the lid of her laptop and pick up the spoon. "See?" she teased, helping herself to a mouthful. "I'm eating."

Diane rolled her eyes but was saved from further comment by the sound of voices calling down the hallway.

"Babs! Diane! We're heading out!"

Commissioner Gordon's voice was clear as it echoed toward them. As always, it signaled the truce between them. This conversation wasn't over, but it could wait a little longer yet.

Barbara plied herself up, ignoring Diane's relieved look as she left her laptop and her nest, and hurried instead to her father's side.

She wished they weren't heading out to another meeting. Sure, they were a success and one of the last strands of hope they had but… She couldn't ignore the apprehension she felt in her gut at the thought of the pair of them exploring out into the cold night by themselves.

The irony wasn't lost on her. She knew they'd feel exactly the same if they had any clue what the girls did every other night in their absence.

It was exactly why she'd have fought harder against their ban had she not had the stuff to be getting on with at home instead. That, and it gave her a perfect excuse to go out unnoticed.

So she'd been attacked? It wasn't as if she'd become an invalid… ugh. Protective friends and family would be the death of her one day. At least, in this case, their concern actually benefitted her - and Diane.

She sighed, shuffling her way down the hall and towards the front door. Her eyes immediately went to the two of them waiting there, bundled up against the cold and sharing a matching look of determination.

"You going to another meeting?"

Her father nodded, adjusting the firearm he was burying beneath the fold of his coat. "Harvey was the one to suggest it - said he knows someone who can offer us some intel. We agreed to meet with them tonight."

"Alright, well, just take care of yourself," she murmured nervously, pressing a last desperate kiss to his cheek. "And you," she added, smiling across at John, who was waiting patiently as normal.

"Always," he replied, leaning in close enough to whisper in her ear. "What? No goodbye kiss for me?"

Barbara scoffed, swatting his arm hard enough to elicit a yelp from him. In fact, he was practically pouting as he reached to open the door. He clearly knew when to withdraw from a losing battle. "Ready, Commish?"

Barbara's father nodded, trying not to roll his eyes too hard at the pair of them. Clearly, his days living with young children were not quite over with. God help him, at least Diane looked as equally irritated and amused as he did.

Turning his attention back to his actual child, he gave her one last reassuring pat on her shoulder, and he stepped out into the night beyond, closely followed by John behind him.

The sliding of a bolt and the click of the key in the two different locks told both girls that they were officially alone again.

They both stood there in silence as if following an unwritten rule, counting to ten before either of them spoke.

"To the shipping yard?"

"Race ya," Barbara agreed, all but rounding towards the window and to the fire escape.

Diane hurried after her with a clear cry of, "cheat!"

* * *

Dogs... Normally she loved dogs but not tonight.

As clear as crystal, she heard the loud bark of dogs echoing through the night air around her. It sent a ripple of panic coursing through her, making her wide eyes glance over her shoulder, checking for her pursuers…

She winced, covering her eyes in pain as the effervescent beams of flashlights swung past her, illuminating the pitch black streets around her, casting her elongated shadow before her feet.

She wasted no more time, turning her head to face forward Barbara tore ahead as fast as she could. Her body screamed desperately from the physical strain she was putting it under. Despite her hours' training as Batwoman, she could barely breathe, her heart pounding against her chest so hard she thought it would burst out of her. She couldn't stop. Not now. They'd catch her... She had to keep running. Running for her life...

"I knew this… was a bad… idea," she cursed into her comms, knowing full well Diane could hear her wherever she had disappeared to, leaving her to lose the last of their unlucky victims of the night.

Who knew Bane had so many men guarding the edges of upper Gotham? Next time, she got to choose their target. She also had to remind Diane why splitting up wasn't smart either.

"How was I… supposed to know?" Diane shot back breathlessly. From the sounds of it, she wasn't having the easiest of times with her remaining few tails either. "Clearly word got around…"

"You think?"

"Oh shut up, I'm… also a bit… busy."

A shrill whine made her comms burst into static, telling Barbara Diane had efficiently dealt with the remainder in a true Canary fashion. If only Barbara could lose the last few with as much ease.

"Well, I got the dogs!" she vented, turning hastily off the road.

"It wasn't like we got to pick!" Diane protested before cursing. "Look. Head towards the park! I'll meet you there!"

Barbara groaned but knew she made sense. If she looped backward she stood a chance of losing her pursuers. Besides, the woodland would give her cover that these exposed streets lacked. It was time to pray her days of competitive cross country running hadn't been for nothing.

With as much speed as she could muster Barbara changed direction, bolting off the side of the road and weaving her way back towards the somewhat rusty gate that marked the entrance to Gotham City Central Park.

She cast one last desperate look over her shoulder and plunged into the dark wilderness before her.

It was so dark in fact that Barbara could see nothing at all. Her only guide was the occasional stream of moonlight breaking through the canopy above. That detail probably explained why she - for the hundredth time - stumbled across a large set of mangled roots that protruded from the ground awkwardly, like a trap reaching out to snare its prey. That was how she felt- like prey being hunted without mercy.

In her opinion, they'd been fast with their getaway. Barbara had made for the back door, whilst Diane had scrambled out a rickety ajar window. They'd made their owns way out, dashing across the rooftops with great haste. Nights of patrolling had made them well acquainted with Gotham's skyline.

Somehow, though, this seemed to have spread like wildfire. Just when Barbara had thought she was safe, she'd seen the flash of a lone patrol. Within a split second, they'd seen her. Now here she was, leading them on a goose chase into Gotham's wooded parkland. There were loads of them... At least ten men, and what sounded like five dogs.

"Over there!" Someone yelled, the voice ringing in her ears.

"She went that way!"

"Fan out!"

She cursed in desperation. They were everywhere... she could feel the twigs beneath her crunch under her boot heels as she sprinted. She didn't stop running though. She could see the edge of the trees approaching her. She could lose them out there, she hoped, there was more area to move. But she could only do that if she could get rid of these damn dogs...

Barbara knew what to do. She swerved to her left, changing direction. She'd been to the woods enough to know where she was, even in the dark, with only the light of the full moon and the dozen flashlights behind her to guide her.

She jumped upwards and felt herself drop a few feet, landing with a great splash, breaking the surface of the shallow river that ran through the park. The dogs wouldn't catch her scent now she thought triumphantly.

Still, it was freezing. Even through the layers of her suit, the water was ice cold, making Barbara gasp as it soaked through her clothes, sending shivers up her spine. Her adrenaline was the only thing keeping her going at this point. She couldn't stop. If she did she'd never been able to continue. It would all catch up with her...

The water splashed up around her as she waded forward with all the speed she could muster. It was even harder running in water. She could feel exhaustion wavering her strength. She was meant to be strong. Meant to be Batwoman...

Barbara stopped.

The voices were becoming fainter, the barks less close. With a grunt of determination, she leaped out the icy water, scrabbling on the bank with her shaking body, and stumbling to her feet. Her cape stuck to her body, water dripping off her legs in a constant stream: she was absolutely soaking wet. Now mud was stuck to her hands and knees as well, making her look a right state.

However, she didn't care right now. She just ran... After a few more minutes of running, she felt the earth turn to concrete, and she realised she had found the main road into Gotham. She turned her head in both directions.

Thankfully a blur of black appeared out of the corner of her eye.

"There you are!'

Barbara blinked. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Did you go for a swim?"

"What?"

"You went for a swim? At this time of night? It's freezing."

"It wasn't planned, Di," Barbara snapped, trying her best not to shiver. "Can we just go home please?"

"This is getting oddly normal," Diane smiled. "I mean, when we started I thought this was crazy. Yet, we make a pretty good team, Red."

"Oh yeah?" Barbara grinned, glancing back at her partner in the dim glow of the alleyway.

"Yeah," Diane nodded. "I mean… take even just tonight for example. Three armed robberies, a mugging, and a drug ring - all taken down by us. We helped people tonight."

Barbara couldn't keep the grin off of her face as she thought it over for herself. The unconscious said drug dealers they had left back at the warehouse only made her feel even more euphoric. It was one thing to win a case, but a whole other thing to see a direct result like this first hand.

"We did," she agreed. "We did good, blondie."

"Oh, shut up. I hate that name."

"So what?"

Diane laughed, swinging her baton at Barbara playfully, making her laugh even harder as they turned and started their journey home again. Neither of them could ignore the faint hue of dawn that was approaching across the horizon.

"We better get back before the others check on us and notice we're not in bed like we said we were."

In another world, those words belonged on the lips of a delinquent teenager, not two fully grown women vigilantes.

Barbara shrugged, rolling her eyes through her mask. She would just be grateful to get out of the freezing wet clothes. "That's if they're even back from their meeting yet. Let's go see."

* * *

The next morning rolled around, as every morning did. The four occupants of the house all took their sweet time to surface, staggering out into the sunshine, having spent the night before out doing their own individual thing.

Breakfast was an odd ordeal in their little household. No one truly had anywhere to be, and after all their nightly activities (covert and overt) everyone was usually half asleep as they flopped around the excuse of a dining table that sat in the middle of the kitchen. That morning was no different as Diane poured cereal into her bowl before passing the box across the table.

Barbara sat there, curling her feet up around her on the stool. She would have felt embarrassed in another life to let other people, like John or Diane, see her in the mornings - with her red-headed chaos, and baggy Gotham P.D. shirt and sweat pants. What could she say? She had bigger priorities these days - like finishing the Lucky Charms before John could.

Speaking of the sleepy detective, it was at that moment that he emerged, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he headed to join them. "Morning all," he greeted. His expression was chipper even if his voice was not.

Clearly, he wasn't a guy who functioned well on minimal hours of sleep. Damn though, if he didn't somehow still look oddly handsome - or so Barbara thought casually, surprising even herself as she hastily tried to control the rising blush in her cheeks.

"Morning?" Diane quipped, mercifully saving Barbara from having to open her mouth. "It's midday. It's afternoon now."

"Not in this household." Barbara chuckled as she watched John groan, hands clasped around the very obviously empty coffee maker on the counter. She felt his pain. "I'd actually kill for enough power right now to make a pot of hot black-"

John groaned, holding a finger in the air for silence. "So help me god, Babs. If you say the word coffee I'm going to cry."

"Poor decaffeinated baby," Diane cooed, smirking around the edge of her spoon.

Commissioner Gordon choked, trying not to splutter his water everywhere. It was with remarkable restraint he turned a shade of red instead, trying not to let his laughter add insult to injury. He'd be lying if he didn't say he was craving a cup himself.

"Forget coffee. I'd take some heat right about now." He sighed, rubbing his hands together as he adjusted what appeared to be the outer of three large woolen jumpers. "Maybe that's what these vigilantes should be focusing on - improving conditions rather than chasing miscellaneous extras from a gangster movie."

The mention of the word vigilante from his lips was enough to spark everyone's interest. Barbara didn't miss the way Diane's eyes flickered toward her as well, as if communicating some silent fear. What that was Barbara wasn't entirely sure. They clearly didn't have anything to fear by the way both men seemed to resume their breakfasts with ease.

Still, it was the first time either of them had heard the words slip from a person's lips. Clearly, their work was starting to get attention.

"What do you think about them?" John queried, sitting back in his seat and crossing his knee under the table. His eyes had a peculiar look about them as they glanced at Barbara, and she almost swore he was examining her. Why? What was he after? "The Batgirl and the Black Canary… running around this city and trying to be Batman. It can't end well."

Barbara blinked. "I heard she goes by Batwoman - not Batgirl."

That was what she had taken from the conversation?

The words had escaped her mouth before she could control herself. Else, she'd probably realize that they had been a mistake. As always with these conversations, it was best to remain quiet and let people babble their way through to another topic.

Her father sighed, his tone becoming oddly short as if he was also surprised by her sudden reply. "Look at her, Babs. She's a kid. She's a girl, not a woman. Any grown woman would have the sense not to try something so foolish in the first place."

Diane scoffed rather loudly, looking like she was trying remarkably hard not to tip her glass over the Commissioner. Barbara didn't blame her. Her father's patronizing tone was enough to make even her want to start another bickering match between them.

Instead, she subtly kicked the girl in the shin - a warning shot and a reminder.

"There's nothing wrong with the word 'girl'," Diane countered, but not without softening her tone. "Regardless of your views on the matter, she's here, and so is the Canary. We should be thanking them, not judging them."

"Well, I think Batgirl is incredibly brave," Barbara murmured back before she could even help it. She took another defiant mouthful of cereal and tried not to shoot them a withering stare. "I mean… she's doing what no one else is. She's openly defying Bane, and giving hope to the people of Gotham. It's not exactly as if the Batman is doing anything right now, and the people need people to look up to - to trust in."

"And you think her and her wannabe friend are those people?" John chipped in, shaking his head. "What happens when Bane kills her? It'll crush Gotham, and Bane will win. We know it's going to happen eventually."

It was Diane's turn to scoff and shoot him a stony glare. "Says who? You?"

"Yes."

"And how do you know anything about it?" she snapped. He was on very thin ice. "I think Batgirl and this canary girl are heroes."

"She's stupid, that's what she is," her father muttered, sipping his glass. There was nothing malicious in his tone, merely exhaustion and the echo of the pain of a man who had seen far too much misery and grief in his life. "The pair of them - as admirable as they are - are just going to get themselves, and anyone helping them, killed."

Barbara didn't have to be a genius to see the men had discussed this issue between themselves, probably at their meetings. They also appeared to have made their minds up, which was curious in itself.

This was coming from the man who had once shielded the Batman? Had he changed so much these past few years, so much so he now turned his back on a figure in a cape?

"So you'd prefer they did nothing?" Diane replied, trying to keep her frown off her face as she sharply turned and glanced at the Commissioner. "What happened to not sitting on our asses? What about the people of this city standing up for themselves?"

"I'm not denying they're a good symbol of hope but-"

"But what?" Babs scoffed, finding it remarkably hard not to fight back like she'd done a hundred times before. It already felt odd to be having this kind of conversation again. "Just because they're not 'the Batman' they're not good enough? Is that it, huh? Well, where's your precious Batman now, Dad?"

The conversation had well and truly drifted into dangerous territory.

"The Batman is gone. We don't need him, or anybody trying to be him." Her father's gaze narrowed as he turned himself to fully face his daughter. There was a defiant fire in his being despite looking so frail, even after these few weeks. His voice didn't belong to the tired, weakened body that it escaped from. " _We_ are doing what needs to be done - taking real action to drive forward a resistance. We need to inspire people to action, not provoke an outright conflict."

John paused. His expression had morphed into something unreadable as he drummed his fingers absently against the table top. "Maybe they do have a point? Maybe we could use support like these two, considering the impact they've already had. If we were to bring them into the fold - "

"No."

"No?" John blinked slowly. "Sir, don't you think we ought to try and make contact-"

"I said no, son," Gordon declared, even if his tone felt more like a plea. "Too many innocent lives have been wasted in this mad man's crusade, we don't need to be risking and abetting anyone else getting mixed up in this mess - and that's that."

The look on everyone else's face said it definitely wasn't, but no one was foolish enough to dare say it out loud. Instead, John did what he did best and subtly steered the conversation back towards safer topics, and whilst Diane did her best to participate, Barbara chose to finish the remainder of her breakfast in silence.

She had always found it easier to disengage from a fight with her father than to strike back. If there was one person in the world that could match her strength and stubbornness it was the man who had given those traits to her. It wasn't that she was angry with him, it was more that she knew fighting was futile. Her father would outlive God if it meant he could have the last word.

She was doing what she believed was right. He was a man who felt the same, he had just had the disadvantage of years of disappointment, sacrifice, and loss to wear away his optimism. He was a man rooted firmly in his beliefs, and his way of operating. Finally, Barbara had found hers.

With a well-plastered smile, Barbara finished the meal and helped to clear away. It was easy enough from there to slip away back to the room she had claimed as her own.

Curling up in bed, Barbara felt as if she had tumbled back in time. Maybe one day she could make her father see sense but clearly, that day was not today.


	16. Chapter 15

_**As always, I want to begin this chapter by saying a massive thank you to everyone who's read, followed, reviewed,**_ _**favourited and messaged me since the last chapter. It actually means the world, and always brightens up my day when I see the email coming through to tell me. It's been a real help to motivate me to finish this chapter, so here you are as a reward... All aboard the drama train - next stop, angst station!**_

 _ **Thesilentmage x**_

* * *

Rainy days were nothing new to Gotham city, and if anything, there was something rather oddly beautiful about them, or so Barbara Gordon thought. Staring out of the window, lying on her bed, across the city, the inky darkness of the rainy sky and pinpricks of light formed a painting almost surreal in its nature.

Her whole body ached. Every muscle in fact, including muscles she wasn't aware, had existed.

She was in pretty good shape, she knew that, but still… she kind of regretted throwing out her gym membership a few months ago. She was seriously going to have to start training harder for this if she wanted to make it longer than a few weeks.

With a wince she sat up, ignoring the screaming protest of her abdomen. At least she looked far more toned. Her days with Diane training and her nightly activities had ensured it.

It was with great effort and great reluctance that she eased herself out of bed. Her feet padded towards the dresser as she dug inside for another set of clean clothes.

The biggest bruise was recognizable, spreading across her stomach from where she had slammed herself into the side of a building - by accident she added. It wasn't her fault she still hadn't quite got to grips with Fox's 'grapple guns'. Swinging about wasn't anything new to the gymnast in here, but still… being propelled at ridiculous speed through a free fall made it kind of hard to control.

Oh well. She'd get there. It was just one more element of the job that she had yet to adjust to. If this had been a normal life, she'd have treated it like any other sports injury and soaked in a lazy, warm, bath full of water. However, it wasn't, so she would have to cope with the aid of painkillers and large jumpers.

So far, she'd done exactly that and boy, it wasn't easy.

Take this morning for example. Barbara had to bite her lip just to keep herself from cursing as she tried to dress. Pulling on a jumper and a pair of jeans was harder than she'd thought it would be. It was why she didn't dare attempt her sneakers, choosing instead a fluffy pair of socks that slid on with far less effort or bending over.

"So this is what being an old woman feels like," she'd grumbled, easing herself up and off the bed.

She certainly felt like one as she shuffled her way down the corridor, hand against the wall, trying with every step to limber herself up. By the time she'd got to the kitchen, she'd somehow successfully managed to stand up straight and walk in a semi-casual stride. Her aesthetic was now more sleep-deprived than an invalided old woman. This she could at least work with, and so could John she hoped as she rounded the corner.

The man himself was the first in the kitchen that morning. By the damp, mussed up appearance of his hair Barbara knew immediately he had decided to brave the shower that morning. The fact he was also wearing an overly large jumper told her he had regretted it after.

"Someone's up early," she teased. He turned around in reply, looking a little startled but mostly pleased to see her. The grey tinged light from the window etched into the contours of his smile, highlighting it clearly for all to see - even if she knew it truly belonged to her. "You risked the shower?"

"Morning to you too, and I had to," he sighed reluctantly. "I ended up hiding in a dumpster on the way back last night. We got spooked by some unexpected company. Needless to say, I did not smell great afterward."

"Well, on behalf of everyone in this apartment - and the rest of Gotham who would also have smelt you, thank you for your sacrifice."

A genuine burst of laughter escaped John and briefly lit up both his face and the dreary apartment. The warmth was immediate in Barbara's chest at the sight.

"How's the hunt for a way into the tunnels working out?" she asked slowly, not entirely sure if he would be willing to discuss it. To his credit, he didn't flinch. If anything he appeared to be listening interestedly, leaning back against the counter edge and watching her as she turned to face him. "I mean, I assume one of your club is going to be finding out more."

"I'm already on the hunt."

Barbara nodded. "I know you guys were discussing needing help researching ways to get in and out of the tunnels. For that, you'll need maps, city plans etc." She gestured beside them, out of the window and towards the dimly lit city. "Point me toward the best library to find that sort of thing."

John's brows lifted. "Right now?" he chuckled, nudging her with his hip as he passed. "Your work ethic puts mine to shame."

Barbara hissed, "Tomorrow, smartass," as she pushed him away from her.

However, their smile's wavered as John glance down at where her jumper had risen up off her wrists.

John paused, noticing the slight purple hue to her skin, but before he could say anything, she had pulled her sleeve down, masking her arms from view. He bit his tongue, despite the questions that immediately sprung to mind.

Barbara could practically see them flashing across his forehead, blaring and bold like a Broadway billboard. Maybe that was why she hastily turned from him, pushing the conversation on eagerly with a startled, "Did you want me to turn on the generator and make a pot of coffee?"

"No, thanks," he stated calmly but not ungraciously. Clearly, her over-eager smile had disarmed him even for a moment, but that was all she needed. "I'll be ok with whatever we've got going."

"Which is not a lot, I'm afraid." Her smile was apologetic as she turned back to the cupboards. There wasn't exactly a lot to rifle through, but she did her best to try and find something appropriate. "Diane and I were thinking of making another run down to the collection point today."

"By yourselves?"

"Yes, unless you aren't too busy to come to join us."

John shook his head, looking justifiably guilty at the accusation in her voice. "No, I… I mean, we're not busy today. We don't have a meeting till tonight so you don't have to be here alone."

"We don't mind."

"Well, maybe I do," he replied softly. So softly, that it caused Barbara to turn back and face him in surprise. "I don't like leaving you two alone here so much, and I know your father feels the same."

"John, you and my Dad are doing important work," she countered smoothly. Her hand reached for his in a soothing sign of affection. "Diane and I know that. We're capable of being by ourselves at night. You both have nothing to feel guilty for. I'd almost be mad if you two were always here, cluttering up the place."

John couldn't help but laugh. His hand squeezed her back affectionately and reassurance. If only Barbara was able to do something to soothe his brow the way his tone had.

"You telling those two knuckleheads to quit worrying about us?"

"Yes," Barbara replied, grinning as Diane appeared suddenly in the kitchen doorway. Interestingly, she didn't immediately withdraw her hand from John's. Instead, she lingered a moment longer before she let him go. "I was telling him about our plans to make a runout today."

"I see," Diane smirked, shooting the pair a knowing glance. "They think they can keep up with us?"

"Apparently."

John rolled his eyes. Diane Lance was starting to grow on him, as was her sense of humour. "Come on," he sighed. "We're not complete idiots."

"That remains to be seen, John Blake." Her tone was teasing, as was her expression as Diane breezed past him to join Barbara at the counter. Clearly, she was just as hungry as they were.

She reached upwards, stretching her arm towards the loaf of bread that had sitting there on the bottom shelf. However, it was as she stretched up on to her toes that her balance faltered momentarily. Long enough for her to fall forwards, her hip bumping into the side of the counter as she did so.

As inconsequential as this appeared, Barbara wasn't the only one who noticed as Diane winced, clutching her side briefly.

"I'll get it, Di," Barbara smiled quickly, turning and reaching for the cupboard past her friend.

As much as John's attention was now drawn to Diane, he kept his eye on Barbara out the corner of his eye. It was enough to make the hairs on the back of neck stand upright as if sensing the burning gaze that was boring into her.

As she extended upwards on her tiptoes, her shirt hem rose, and he once more caught sight of bruised flesh and cuts. Barbara grabbed the bread, and handed it to her friend, smiling at John calmly, heading back to the table, plate in hand.

John had no choice but to smile back, holding his questions as he returned to breakfast. Ok. Something was up. As if Barbara's mysterious injuries weren't enough of a puzzle, now Diane was suffering too? What had happened?

She couldn't have gotten those injuries here, that he was sure of. Gordon, or he, would have noticed sooner otherwise. Clearly, they'd gotten them elsewhere. But where? When? How?

Wouldn't they have said if something had happened?

John wasn't entirely sure what to say or even do, so wisely chose to do nothing and say nothing. Instead, he sat with them at the table, watching as Gordon joined them, and they began their daily ritual of breakfast together for the billionth day in a row.

* * *

The day passed with the usual painful, pointless and weary pace. If anyone noticed the four of them taking turns to glance at the clock on the wall, no one said anything. Clearly, everyone's minds were a hundred miles away from that tiny apartment and trying to create a sense of normalcy.

They all knew better than to mention it but it was clear as day. Instead, they did what they did every day to pass the time away till night fell and they could all be of use again. They made their run to the food collection point. And when they'd got back, Diane had found a busted up game of Monopoly in the back cupboards which had at least killed some time for all of them.

True, it had also almost killed all of them as well as Barbara's father somehow managed to wipe the floor with the three of them. Diane looked ready to murder the man herself when she landed on his property for what felt like the hundredth time and bitterly surrendered her cash with a hissed, "I'll get you for this."

But she hadn't, and several hours later, Commissioner Gordon had emerged victorious, if a lot more despised.

"What can I say? I'm just a professional," he'd declared smugly as they packed the board away, and noted the darkening sky out the window. "It's good to know I can at least win at something these days."

The words hung in the air ominously.

If Bane and his men could see them now. The feared rebels, playing monopoly… and losing. It was a bittersweet moment. One that left Barbara feeling uneasy to say the least. It was like looking a photograph in a broken frame, with the edges singed. The happiness and domesticity were lost in the ever lingering terror and misery.

Bitter sobriety struck her, and with a brief glance across the room at Diane, she could tell she wasn't alone. It made her begin to itch with the urge to do something again, to get moving.

By the time darkness fell again, it was as if someone had poured water over her burning flames of impatience. The effect was immediate as she felt herself soothed, mentally ready for the next few hours.

It made it easier to say goodbye again, telling herself she was so close. As such, her smile of comfort never wavered.

Not as she hugged them both goodbye, not even as she lingered in John's arms a little longer than necessary with neither desperate to let the other one go. However, they had their own paths to walk that night, and neither could be held at bay for long.

Barbara felt nerves tingle down her spine as the door finally closed once more with a definitive click. Needless to say, Barbara didn't waste a moment. She didn't really have time to.

Instead, she made it to the bathroom, and ripped open the cabinet nearest the door. She found the bottle of pain meds, and took two in her palm, swallowing them down with water from the tap a second later. Maybe it was just in her head, but she felt almost instantaneous relief as the pills made their way through her system. As Barbara worked, she let her eyes settle on her reflection, watching herself as she moved.

These days, she barely recognised herself to what she'd use to be. Her arms, for instance, had the same muscular indents as before, but they'd grown almost, adding to her toned physique. There was also the bags under her eyes, which were her badge of honour when it came to lack of sleep.

But it wasn't just physically. Inside, she'd changed too. Here she was, Batgirl, a vigilante who fought criminals. She had become so much more rebellious, deductive, courageous, risky... She was a good person.

She gulped, swallowing the emotions. No. She was in control tonight.

She gripped the side hard, turning her knuckles white, before storming out the bathroom, and to change into something more suitable. Within a few more minutes, there she stood, ready to go.

Barbara took one last deep breath, locking her bedroom door, and heading towards the window. Still sneaking out at her age... It was almost comical.

She shimmied out into the night air, feeling the rush of the wind, and listened to the crescendo of the city around her. She had this. She could handle this. It was under control.

"Ok," she whispered softly, before leaping out into the night. "Here goes nothing."

By now, she knew Diane would also be ready. The city was pitch black too, masking their escape into the night.

If she noticed the figure escaping out of the window behind her, trailing her across the rooftop towards the nearest fire-escape, she didn't say anything. Instead, she focused on keeping pace with Diane as they joined together on the roof, and eased through the darkness and out into the night.

* * *

So, this was what the apartment looked like in the dark of the night. John couldn't help the mundane thought as he made his way down the eerily silent hallway. He hadn't meant to end up here, loitering by Barbara's bedroom door, but yet here he was, unable to move.

Something had changed between them. There was something there that had definitely never been there before, not even when they'd met - the introduction of two determined souls with almost identical outlooks on the world.

He couldn't place the exact moment he'd realised its existence: was it that first day when she'd smiled at him the afternoon sunlight with such amusement? Was it when she'd first made him laugh with her blunt, sarcastic wit? Or was it when he'd been stood there that day, when Gotham had fallen, surrounded by rubble and his heart had dropped in pure unadulterated terror for her?

The truth of the matter was, he didn't truly care when it had happened. He only cared that it had, and that now every time he saw her -no matter how tired, sad, or dishevelled she appeared to be- his heart beat erratically in his chest. So many times it had taken all his restraint to prevent himself from telling her as such, or wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly as to prove to himself that she was here, alive, and real.

Though, that wasn't the reason he had come here. Why he was now paralysed with nervous indecision.

No, he was being stupid.

"Come on, John Blake," he scolded.

So what he thought he had heard the thud of her window shutting in the early hours of the morning? So what she slept with her door bolted? So what that she was evasive and detached most days? Which one of them wasn't nowadays?

He had no right to his suspicions, let alone to confront her over them out of a sense of potentially misguided affection and concern. Barbara was her own woman, and she was a smart, exceptional one at that. Everything he was imaging, fearing - it was all in his head. That was all it was.

He should have turned around. He should have headed back to his room before his shame caught up with him. He'd abandoned the Commissioner after all, and what for? Indulging his curiosity?

Still, the moment he finally went to return back down the hallway, he heard the slight creak of floorboards and knew his suspicions had been correct. They called it Detective's instinct for a reason after all. Seldom had John's gut been wrong, and this was no exception.

Tentatively, he rose his hand. He knocked once, twice, then for a third time.

Nothing.

Silence greeted him from the other side of the door.

Bending downwards, he stared beneath the narrow slit of the doorframe praying to see a shadow moving about or a light on. Anything to silence his now deafening thoughts. Unfortunately, he received no such assurance. There was only one option left open to him.

"Barbara," he called loudly, in a final desperate appeal. "Barbara, I'm coming in."

With that, he turned and began to slam his shoulder into the door. The weakened wood didn't take long to buckle beneath his weight, snapping open as it wrenched the bolt out of it's hold in the wall.

He froze.

His eyes didn't know where to look first - the empty bed? The window that had clearly just been open by the draft that lingered in the air? Or perhaps the fire escape he heard footsteps echoing upwards overhead, as someone fled into the night?

He gulped, praying he was wrong as he hoisted himself over the window ledge, and out into the night. Yet. as he saw the edge of a leg disappearing onto the roof, he knew he had been right all along…

"Fuck."

* * *

Each night felt different.

In some ways, yes, it had become easier and more familiar with every save. Yet, every moment Barbara wore the mask was permanently etched into her - and not because of her eidetic memory. Everything had an odd sense of clarity, as if for the first time, her world had become focused, more logical in its sense and purpose.

Maybe she should have snuck out years ago to become a vigilante crime fighter. Who knew it would be so life affirming?

Barbara smirked at the thought, rounding the corner into the alleyway beside the safe house. Hoisting herself upwards, she snagged the bottom ladder of the fire escape. The metal was ice cold, and stung as her hands grasped a hold of it, pulling it down to the ground with a soft metallic clang.

Diane had gone round the other side of the building, choosing to make her way up a weird climbing frame of dumpsters, drainpipes and windowsills as her route back to her bedroom window. Still, whatever worked and meant they got into bed undetected was the important thing.

Barbara, however, had chosen the more conventional route for her re-entry. Crawling up the fire escape, she reached for the bottom of her bedroom window. It wasn't hard to shimmy the lock open considering how much practise she now had. First vigilantism, now breaking and entering? Going back to being a lawyer again after this was all over was not going to be so easy after all…

Barbara eased through the window, dropping into her room again slowly, landing in the darkness. She got to her feet, and slid the window closed behind her. Turning back from the window, she reached up for the zip on her jacket. However, before she could undo it, the light came on, momentarily blinding her.

She winced, covering her eyes, looking around the room. What she didn't expect to see was John, sat in the armchair across the room, watching her.

"John?" she gasped, startled to see him here, and at this time as well.

Had he been waiting here all night? Why?

"You startled me. What are you doing in here? Shouldn't you be sleeping?" She immediately dropped her hands to her side, grateful she'd left the suit back, secure in their bunker.

"I could say the same to you," he began, his tone clipped and measured. "It's a bit late to be outside."

"I got restless," Barbara explained hastily, gesturing over her shoulder. "I needed some air. I just went up to the roof-"

"No, you didn't."

He said it so quickly, and with such confidence, that it momentarily stunned Barbara.

"What?" she managed, trying to piece it together. "What do you mean I didn't?"

"Babs, I'm a detective-"

"For about a day, if you remember-"

"That's besides the point!" he protested bitterly, although she had definitely made him flustered with that reminder. It felt like a lifetime ago. "Don't lie. I know you weren't up there. The same way you haven't been here every night."

"John, I can explain-"

"Don't, don't do that," he snapped suddenly, shaking his head.

He got to his feet, and closed the distance between them in three big steps, till he was so close that Barbara could stare up right into his pale green eyes. Whereas they had always been nothing but warm towards her, she was startled to see that tonight there was nothing but a cold emptiness in them.

"Don't call me that. Just answer me, Babs."

"What do you want to know?" she whispered, almost losing the ability to talk. He was so close to her, yet so far away. It made her heart beat a little faster, and she realised she was nervous. Whether about how they were stood, or what he was asking her, she wasn't sure.

"Are you the Batgirl?"

"John, how can you ask me that?"

"So you deny it?"

"This isn't important-"

"It is, Babs!" he snapped back, hands flying to her shoulders in urgency. As he lowered his eye level to hers, Barbara couldn't handle it anymore. She just stared at the floor, knowing that, deep down, he already knew the answer for himself.

Denying it did neither of them any good.

"I'm sorry."

John didn't look surprised, per say, more angry. His eyes widened in shock, and his hands fell from her as if he had been tasered. "So, it's true?"

"You sound like you wouldn't believe me, even if I did deny this."

"That, and I saw you, tonight."

"You followed me?" Barbara couldn't keep the hurt out of her voice as it was her turn to narrow her eyes, and step closer toward him. How the hell had he managed that? Barbara couldn't believe she hadn't detected a tail. What kind of vigilante was she? "I thought you went with my father-"

"I came back. I claimed I was worried about leaving you both, so your father let me leave the meeting early." John looked vaguely guilty at his admission, but the fury in his posture made it clear what emotion was his priority. "Don't act all high and mighty. You've been lying to us- all of us. How do you think your Dad is going to be when he finds out-"

"Which he won't," Barbara bit back sharply, sounding almost like she was begging a little. Still, the way her finger pointed dangerously at him made it clear he did not really have a choice here. "He can't find out. It's for him I'm doing this, all of you."

"Does Diane know?" he growled, almost sounding jealous. However, he just stopped, his face falling as if he had had another epiphany. "She's the Black Canary, isn't she?"

"John-"

"Oh my god!" he exclaimed, smacking a hand against his forehead before rounding on her. "Who else knows? Is it just your Dad and I who missed this memo?"

"No! it's just her, and I. That's it. I swear."

"Your word doesn't exactly mean a lot right now, Babs." John Blake had never sounded so betrayed, so broken, in the entire time Barbara had known him. His usually inviting face was disfigured, his smile twisted into this disappointed snarl that made her stomach churn uneasily. "Do you even know how stupid all this is? How dangerous?"

"Yes," she snapped with all the fire and force that raged within her. Both of them had long since stopped caring who might hear them through the apartment walls. As no one had burst in yet, it was most likely the others were too fast asleep to hear the war now raging in the adjacent room. "But it's a risk I'm willing to take to give Gotham hope, to help protect the innocent people still in this city, to keep order till we fix this."

"You don't know what you're getting yourself in to."

"Why do you even care?"

The words were out of her mouth before she could even stop them. The moment they were she wished she could take them back if only to spare herself having to watch as John sharply inhaled, as if he had been stabbed in the chest.

"If you were there tonight, you would have seen what I can do, how I can handle myself. I don't need to be a super ninja assassin to take on the creeps walking the streets out there."

"What I saw tonight was a loose cannon. You wanna fight everyone and everything. That means you end up fighting nothing." John just scoffed, however, it did nothing to mask the pain that shimmered in his eyes at what she had just said. "The bruises on you also prove otherwise, and I care because we're friends."

"Then, as my _friend,_ " Barbara tried, "leave this alone."

"I can't."

"You have to."

"Why? Why should I shut up about this, and not rat you out to your Dad?"

"Because I'm asking you, as my friend. _Please,_ " she begged, all bravado dropping in a mere heartbeat. It was as if she could sense what was happening here, what this was about to cost her - and the price seemed too dear. It was why she hastily slid her hand in his, squeezing it tightly. "And if that isn't enough, I'm doing good as Batgirl. You know it. This city needs me, and Diane - you even said it yourself."

John stood there. He took several deep breaths… and then he dropped her hand from his.

"Even if I agree with your logic, which I don't, you still lied," he declared accusingly, stepping further away with every word. "You lied to me, and your Dad. You are putting yourself at risk, and don't seem to care what the consequences would mean, not just for you, but for _all_ of us."

"It's my life, and my choice!"

"You're making a stupid one!"

"Says you!"

This had officially become petty. Fuelled by anger and hurt as they threw barbed snipes at one another as if they were nothing more than toddlers.

John looked honestly drained as he stood there and whispered, "You know, for a person who acts like they are all grown up, and smart, you are just a little girl, playing at being a grown up. You're _not_ a hero."

"You _never_ said that about the Batman," Barbara bit back, swallowing to restrain the tears of rage and betrayal that stung her eyes. "You always said he was a hero. What makes me _so_ different?"

"He knew what he was doing-"

"And you think I _don't_?"

Her voice rose as her incredulity overwhelmed her. How hypocritical could he be? Did he not hear the crap coming out of his mouth?

"It's kinda hard to see your logic here," he shot back sharply, the disapproval slashing at her heart with razor-thin precision. "It seems like you're just a kid in a cape, trying to prove a point. But this isn't the time to have a rebellious stage, Barbara!"

"You are just as bad as my Dad, as everybody throughout my life, always telling me no. I'm a girl, I'm too small, I'm stupid, and weak, and pathetic. But I'm not, I am _none_ of those things," she hissed, her fury building with every word of her tirade. It was as if all the anger, all the fear, all the frustration she'd kept pent up inside these past months had come pouring out from the dam she'd trapped them in. "You may be my friend, but you don't get to say what I can and can not do. You don't have that right. _I_ made a choice. Be my friend, and respect it. Help me, and Diane. Don't fight me on this."

"I respect your choice, I just don't have to like or support it. If this is what you're going to do, count me out of this. I don't need to watch someone else I care about dig their own grave." He took the door handle in hand, and flung it open, leaving her there staring after him in disbelief.

"John! Stop!"

But he didn't, slamming the door behind him, and slipping into the night, leaving Barbara alone with what felt like a chasm opening inside her.


	17. Chapter 16

_**One of these days, I'm not going to start a chapter with an apology about the delay since the last one... I promise. Still, life got away from me again, and this one proved more elusive than usual to write. Sorry! Hopefully, you'll understand why when you read it. it's a bit of a long one, so hopefully, that also makes up for it. That, and I also have been procrastinating on this chapter by working on the next two instead XD shoot me. So... basically, as an apology, and a thank you to everyone who messaged me, reviewed or followed this story since the last chapter - I'm aiming to post the next one this weekend as it's almost there. Woo. It's a miracle! Two chapters in the space of a week.**_

 _ **As always, enjoy and feel free to message, review, favourite or follow. You all make my week when you do, and it helps motivate me to keep writing... Basically, reviews equal chapters coming quicker ;)**_

 _ **Thesilentmage x**_

* * *

High school was but a hazy memory to Barbara Gordon, and that was how she liked to keep it. There was something about the stress-filled, draining days full of sweaty, hormonal teenagers that she had chosen to black out from her mind. Perhaps it was the never-ending tension that hung in the air that she had chosen to repress, or perhaps it was the feeling of constantly being on edge.

It was a feeling Barbara had thought to never experience again after the day she'd graduated. However, that clearly was not to be. Apparently, even adult life was full of emotion-driven tension and feuds. And apparently, people could be just as petty and sulky five years after they left the halls of Gotham High.

Needless to say, it hadn't been the easiest of weeks for either Barbara or John Blake - or just Blake as she had now taken to calling him.

Their moods hadn't been the only thing to remain stormy. The clouds overhead had been swirling angrily in the skies for the past few days, but only that morning had the heavens finally opened.

In their wake, they heaped centimetres of snow. White snow was practically everywhere the eye could see, as was the chill and eerie quiet it brought with it.

Barbara had always loved the snow. Even as a child Barbara had always thought snow pretty magical, the way it smothered everything in a peaceful white blanket. There was just something so pure about the crisp snow stretching as far as the eye could see.

A clean slate, or so her father called it every year without fail. In a sense it was true; Gotham under snow seemed like any other city in the country, and as kids piled out into the streets to play in it, it was easy to believe it was.

That was until the magic wore off, as it did from everything in Gotham. The crisp white snow soon turned into a grey slush that was kicked and tossed about the streets, underfoot of the hundreds going about their daily business. It was always as if the days before, and the excitement they had brought, had been washed away overnight - trampled beneath the relentless pace of Gotham's life.

Barbara couldn't help but feel trampled herself. The past few days had been a toll mentally, physically as well as emotionally. Every minute, she spent waiting for it to happen… for Joh- Blake, even, to drop the grenade that she knew would tear her life apart. Yet, for some reason, he hadn't.

It was enough to bewilder her. That, and the silence he had been maintaining towards her. One word answers had been the most she had been able to wring out of him and she knew that was only because of the suspicious looks Diane and her father had been giving the tempestuous duo.

Just like the snow around her, her life felt a lot less magical that night.

The cold air was almost painful as it whipped at Barbara's face, sending her hair fluttering behind her like a majestic cape. Had this been a movie, she couldn't help but think how she would have looked so powerful stood on the edge of the rooftop staring out across lower Gotham. Instead, this was reality, which meant she looked a mess, shivering and exhausted in the midnight air.

"It's freezing," Barbara whined down the comms.

"You think I didn't notice myself?" Diane replied sharply, her voice hazy over the radio. "Honestly, why couldn't Bane have taken over the city in the middle of summer or something? Trust the asshole to pick the coldest time of the year."

"I don't think the weather was really a big part of his plans, Di."

"Well, it should have been!"

Barbara couldn't stop herself from laughing just a little, even as she shook her hands to try and restore a little feeling to them. Her gloves may have been made of re-enforced armour, but they weren't exactly the warmest. She didn't think armoured gloves and gauntlets came with fluffy lining, although clearly, it was something someone should have thought about before now.

"Keep your eyes open," she managed a moment later. "The group should be headed this way momentarily."

"You worry about your job, I'll do mine," Diane reassured her. "We got this, partner."

"You're right - as always."

"And don't you forget it."

Diane's cheerful tone was just as reassuring as it had been for the last week. No matter what appeared to be happening between Barbara and Blake was none of her concern, and she did her very best to keep things smooth until they could resolve it.

If we can resolve it, Barbara thought bitterly. She wasn't used to being hated, and it left her with a painful sensation in her gut every time to even think about.

"We gonna discuss what's happening between you and Detective asshole, at the moment?"

"What?" Barbara blinked. It was as if her friend had had a mic line right into her very thoughts. How did she keep doing that?

"You and Blake," Diane explained, sounding as if she were rolling her eyes as if it should have been obvious. "You two won't go within five feet of each other the past few days. Plus every time I try to talk to him it's like talking at a brick wall."

"So the usual then?"

"No," she countered sharply. "This is different, even for him. You happen to know anything about it?"

The silence that had grown between them was unbearable, and more importantly, unacceptable. It was as if the wedge that had been driven between them had grown to a chasm, and for some reason, it was as if it had been driven into her gut as well.

They may have only known each other the space of a couple of months, but Barbara couldn't describe the feeling that had formed in her chest. Gotham wasn't a city of friendship after all. She had learned a long time ago to savour the few genuine ones that she came across.

"He knows, Di."

"He what-?" she barked dangerously as she struggled to process the information. "You mean he knows about…?" She didn't need to finish that sentence.

Barbara nodded. "Yep, and he was pissed. Calling us irresponsible and reckless idiots."

"Wait," Diane choked. "How did he even work it out?"

It was with a heap of embarrassment that Barbara refused to meet her friend's gaze, even though she knew Diane was staring directly at her from across the warehouse yard. Instead, she felt her cheek redden as she rubbed the back of her neck. "He… uh… might have followed us out the apartment the other night."

True, that meant Diane was as much to blame as she was for failing to notice their tail, but it didn't make Barbara feel any less of a screw up for not noticing herself. She had been beating herself up about it relentlessly for the past few days. She still felt so confused about it, and what had actually happened.

John knew.

He knew she was Batgirl.

He knew Diane was Black Canary.

Even though she and Diane had been so careful, he'd still worked it out. How long was it before somebody else did the same? How long did she have before he turned her into her Dad?

She groaned.

She'd been caught off guard, surprised by the way John had seemed so upset about it all. He was hurt, and he'd said things. She'd said things. Even though she knew it was down to the heat of the moment, it didn't make her feel any better about it.

"Well, shit," Diane cursed, muttering a lot of things under her breath that even across the radio Barbara knew where probably best left unheard. "I did not have him pegged as a sneaky guy."

"Sneaky?"

"Yeah," she sighed reluctantly. "He always struck me more like a macho type. You know, thinks with his fists before his brain. A Gryffindor, if you will."

Barbara had to cover her mouth to prevent the almighty laugh of disbelief escaping her lips into the night air. Apparently being trapped in an apartment together was wearing off on Diane Lance if she was - god help her - quoting Harry Potter at her whilst out on patrol.

Barbara didn't know if she wanted to high five her friend or roll her eyes at the absurdity of the comment. "Did you just-"

"Yes, and we will never speak of it again, Gordon," Diane replied swiftly and firmly. "Understood?"

"Roger that."

It was with a little mock salute that Barbara decided to edge her way out of her current hiding place, and move a little closer to the edge of the warehouse container lid. Immediately she was rewarded with a far better view of the empty space below.

The snow crunched underfoot as she edged forward. The toes of her boots were white with the stuff as it fluttered through the night.

The rumble of a distant engine told Barbara it was showtime.

"Usual manœuvres?"

"You got it, partner."

The lower districts of Gotham had been rumoured to the epicenter of where the people still on the street had been getting their ammunition. That alone had been enough of a draw for Diane and Barbara to decide to give it a visit, after trailing a few different groups to and from this spot for the past few nights.

More than that, Barbara had also heard of secret trucks storing extra supplies being smuggled around Gotham. Apparently, Bane's men hadn't been exactly forthcoming with the aid that had been provided by the government. They kept some aside as bartering material as well as for themselves.

Typical.

Barbara was rather looking forward to this tonight. Needless to say, she needed somewhere to channel her frustrations from home - and this seemed as perfect a candidate as any other.

"They're coming in now. One truck. Southwest corner."

"Rodger that."

Barbara took a deep breath as she readied herself.

It wasn't hard to make out what appeared to be five people suddenly hurrying out to greet the oncoming vehicle. They must have been waiting in one of the large warehouses nearby - clearly informed of the meeting time and place for this illicit delivery.

Bane sure had a way of managing to organize chaos. He didn't even have to show his face for another immoral scheme to be hatched. At least this time, the girls were one step ahead. A fact Barbara reminded herself of gleefully as she watched the scene below.

Even with the darkness, and the snow, the vehicle appeared to have no trouble as a rather large delivery truck made its way into the open square, and the crew waiting to greet them. It pulled to a gradual stop in the snow.

Barbara and Diane were patient as they waited for the sound of the doors closing, slamming the vehicle shut.

Two more people joined the throng of those waiting below. Seven in total… seven targets they had to deal with if they wanted to get their hands on whatever was in the back of the truck they all so desperately felt the need to guard.

Easy as pie.

"Showtime."

* * *

There was something satisfying in the way her short cape whooshed beneath her as Barbara dropped to the floor, landing in a crouch.

Slowly, she rose upright. The snow dropped off her body in a fine spray as she stared directly at her target ahead.

On the one hand, she wanted to do a "Buffy Summers" as Diane had christened it. Still, sometimes stealth was wiser than well thought out sassy puns, or jibes that only riled her targets up further. Tonight was no different.

Instead, she became at one with the darkness of the night and lunged for the first of the unknowing victims. Her arm wrapped around his throat as she choked him from behind, kicking his knee and sending him to his knees in a mere heartbeat.

No sooner had his strangled cry filled the air than he was lying face down in the snow. Another cry echoed across the square, telling her Diane had well and truly joined the party.

It was like a dance routine. Or one of her old gym routines. As soon as she started, the moves came flooding back to her with grace and fluidity one after the other. In that respect, it was always easier to do. Not think.

Sure, Barbara would plan ahead a little. Her eyes watched those around her. She predicted who would move next, and where they'd strike from. She countered these, planning her responses before she even needed to.

As she said, it was like a routine. Once you'd done it enough, the skill became second nature to her. By this point, she barely even had to stop for breath as she took down the men around her with ease.

Only one slipped away her from her, utilizing the distraction as Barbara turned her back to drive a staggering blow to the thug beside her.

Still, she was Batgirl. It took more than that to evade her.

Barbara's grin was almost wicked as she turned her focus to him, and watched as he hurried away, almost reaching the perimeter of the square. However, Barbara's wrist flicked outwards, flinging loose the wire that had been sealed inside her cuff.

It was almost amusing to watch as it whistled through the air, the weights attached to the end swinging as they wrapped themselves around the man's ankles, tying them together. His cry echoed around the night as he fell forwards onto the tarmac with a thud.

"Gotcha."

So this was what being a cowboy felt like? Ha. She could almost have been in one of the old westerns her grandparents had enjoyed watching so much.

But her satisfaction didn't last long.

Barbara hadn't noticed the figure who had joined in the throng until she turned, a streak of black masking her vision.

Who the-? Where had they come from?

Barbara was not blind, and she knew there was no way in hell she could have missed such a figure earlier on. That meant they had a gatecrasher at this party… one who appeared to be wearing a catsuit, and rather impressive heels too.

Damn.

Whoever she was, her fighting style was brutal, if not oddly elegant. Barbara recognized the gymnast in her skill, the way she flipped and turned with remarkable ease, her ponytail whipping smoothly behind her. But that was all she recognized, eyeing the mystery woman with suspicion and relief.

Whoever she was, was on their side. For now, that was all Barbara was concerned with.

They could always use all the help they could get, and someone as talented as this woman definitely fit the bill - especially as she called out, "behind you!"

That was enough to remind Barbara exactly where she was, and what she was supposed to be doing. Not staring at the wondrous stranger.

Right. Criminals. Yes.

Barbara whirled, her first lashing out as she caught the figure next to her and added them to the already impressive collection of unconscious people lying about the place. Between Diane, herself and their new friend they were making light work of this.

In fact, it was probably only a few minutes later that they were the only three left standing. They'd left a hell of an impact in their wake.

In some ways, it felt too easy… but then again, Barbara wasn't used to turns of good fortune. Especially not when you lived in Gotham. A mysterious stranger popping out of the blue and coming to their aid? It was no surprise, therefore, that Barbara was immediately cautious rather than necessarily grateful.

What? It wasn't as if she was about to hug the woman in gratitude. For all they knew, she was merely some kind of decoy or a trap. Either way, it left her with one massive question: So… now what?

"Who are you?" she barked, choosing the interrogative approach. "What are you doing here?"

As intimidating as Barbara thought she sounded, the woman didn't react. Yet again, she was served a reminder that her whole intimidating aesthetic wasn't as successful as she believed it to be. So much for the dark knight…

Or maybe it was because she wasn't scared, seeing something similar in the girl. Instead, curiosity replaced fear or even intimidation. The woman didn't even so much as flinch as she glanced over.

Her eyes narrowed through the slits in her mask, as she replied rather nonchalantly. "Can't a girl go for a midnight stroll anymore?"

"Not in this war zone, and definitely not in that outfit," Diane replied, looking oddly impressed. She also seemed to be mirroring her curiosity of their new found friend. Diane didn't look even remotely scared as she eyed her again from head to toe. "Although, I have to say I love the boots."

"Thank you." Her tone was light. She really did seem to be enjoying this whole experience. Then again, it wasn't as if it was every day that female vigilantes found more of themselves in a wartorn city. The occasion was definitely memorable all right - if not entirely surreal. "A girl doesn't have to lose her sense of taste and style to be able to handle a few mischievous boys. Something you two seem to understand yourselves."

Whereas Barbara wanted to blush at the comment, Diane took it in her stride. A graceful hair swish was her reply, as she beamed ear to ear. "Thank you… But you still didn't answer the question."

The woman sighed. "You're no fun, are you? You're almost as bad as the big Bat himself."

"You know Batman?"

"Knew."

The distinction was clear, as was her significantly darkened tone. No one dared ask what exactly she meant by such a somber comment. Barbara knew instantly that that was probably for the best.

Instead, they watched as she lashed out a furious kick to the bolt on the back of the truck. A snap filled the air, followed by the clatter of metal on the floor.

Well… that was one way to do it.

Whoever this woman was, she knew what she was doing - that much was certain. Or so Barbara thought as she hurried to help. Between the three of them, they wrenched the door upwards, revealing the cargo hidden within… just as they been promised. Bingo.

"I knew it," the woman hissed smugly, clambering with feline grace into the back of the packed container. The piled stacks of bags and sacks around them told the trio exactly what they needed to know. "I heard from some friends of mine Bane had been running supplies through here. Let's just say I don't like when boys don't share their toys, so I thought I'd pay them a visit."

"Well, that explains it," Barbara murmured under her breath, hoisting herself up alongside her into the back of the truck. "Also, perfect timing - so thanks for that."

The compliment was hesitant as if given as a second thought. Still, if it offended their guest then she didn't let it show. To be perfectly honest, it was clear by now that she didn't let a lot of anything show through that mask and catsuit of hers. She was an enigma in kevlar and knee-high boots.

"Anytime," she purred. Her hand extended with a remarkable amount of grace, hovering there between them expectantly. "The name is Selina Kyle."

Barbara paused, eyeing the woman and her hand. The question lingering between them was clear even if neither said it aloud. Instead, Barbara let her hand clasp around Selina's in acceptance. "The name's Batgirl."

"The famous Batgirl in the flesh?" Selina's eyebrow flickered upwards and her lip twitched as if in a mixture of disapproval and respect. "Hmmm, not exactly fair. A name for a name, and all that."

"What can I say?" Barbara smirked back, "A girl has to have a few secrets."

"Very true." Selina was almost feline as she retracted her hand and brushed it through her silky brunette locks. "Oh, I like you two. You're definitely interesting."

"Oh?"

"What can I say?" Selina shrugged, winking over her shoulder as she looked back at their newfound cargo. "It's good to see a little more girl power in this city."

"Really?"

"Yes." Selina scoffed her tone heavy with disgust. "There's a tad too much testosterone for my liking since Bane and his patrol of dicks took over."

"Amen," Diane chirped. Her smile proved the feeling was mutual. If anything, she looked almost ready to high five the woman had the situation been anywhere other than there, or at the moment. "I'm the Black Canary."

"Pleasure." Selina's response was just as intrigued as it had been for Barbara, even if she seemed more preoccupied with snarling at the stolen goods around them than shaking the other woman's hand. Still, it wasn't anything personal. Not when she stood up almost immediately after and sighed. "Well, it seems my work here is done."

"You're leaving?"

"I did what I came to do, and I can tell the situation is in excellent hands," Selina remarked smoothly, her usual air of confidence filling her words.

Wait… was that a compliment? Barbara wisely chose to take it as one.

Selina turned around and looked at the two girls with a look that told them that wasn't up for discussion. "And if I'm not mistaken, you'll ensure this gets where it needs to."

They both knew they didn't even have to answer, but Diane nodded anyway in reassurance. "You got it."

With that, Selina gave them a sharp nod of approval and acceptance. There were no further words of goodbye between them - not that they were needed. The trio had said all there was really to be said at that moment… besides Barbara had a feeling this wouldn't be the last they saw of this mysterious Selina Kyle.

It was why the pair of them actually stood aside as they watched the woman turn effortlessly on her heels and strut her way to the edge of the truck. Once more Barbara was reminded of some woman on a runway, full of the confidence that she was in control and she knew it.

"See you around, Selina Kyle," she suddenly called, her voice echoing out into the night.

"You too, ladies," she echoed back, staring straight ahead as she melted back into the night from which she'd come. "You too."

* * *

Diane had been wrong earlier. John Blake was not the only sneaky person in their house, even if she didn't truly realize it. For one, she and Barbara definitely fit that bill. Two, as Barbara made her way towards the kitchen that night for a desperately needed glass of water, she realized exactly where she'd got that particular skill from.

"Can't sleep either, huh?"

Barbara couldn't help but yelp as she leaped what felt like ten feet in the air. God, her Dad was almost stealthy enough to be a Bat sometimes.

What was he doing sitting in the dark living room? For, there he was. Sitting on the sofa in only the moonlight, a cup of now cold tea in his hands. She couldn't even tell if he was in his PJs or not, but she chose to think he wasn't by the fact he looked as if he had his favourite jumper on.

"Yeesh, Dad. You almost gave me a heart attack."

"Sorry," he chuckled, sipping his cup. Had he not been smirking so obviously Barbara might have believed him… might. "Wasn't intentional."

"Wasn't it?" she scoffed, hand still clasped to her chest. One of these days she swore her heart would just leap out her chest, or just stop entirely all together in protest at this constant uneasiness. Even the word 'relaxing' had started to just sound like it had come from some old fairy story. "A good father doesn't make his daughter wet her pants just for entertainment, you know."

"Don't blame me," he teased further. "There isn't much to keep me entertained around here. What I wouldn't give for a good smoke right about now…"

Barbara rolled her eyes, trying hard not to tease him in return. "At least that's one positive of this whole mess. I've been trying to make you quit for years. Who knew all it took was a terrorist to make you go cold turkey?"

"Ha ha." His sarcasm was clear as he moved over, patting the sofa seat beside him in clear invitation.

Barbara didn't have it in her to protest. Rather, she chose to wisely accept the invitation instead, perching herself down beside him. Together, they sat there, for a few moments of peace… until her father decided to break it.

"I'm worried about you, kiddo."

So that was why he wanted to talk… Barbara groaned internally at the realization, flopping back against the pillows as she tried very hard not to roll her eyes.

"And I'm worried about you too," Barbara deflected swiftly. "How come that means I get the sudden nighttime intervention?"

"You're burning the candle at both ends, Babs."

"I'm not doing any more than either you or John-"

"You look exhausted kiddo." His tone was parental, even if his eyes told her the fear behind them was real. "You've got that look in your eyes again… I haven't seen that in a long time."

"What look?"

"That spaced out, carrying the weight of the world look."

"You should know, like looking in a mirror," she replied sassily, even if her smile said she was all bark and no bite.

"True," he conceded, shrugging as he accepted her criticism. "But the difference is that you're you. You're the only good thing I've got left in this world, Barb. I know the future is scary as hell right now, but you have to face it. You can't just check out."

"You think I don't know that? That 'Gordon's don't give up' isn't tattooed on my brain? That I wasn't constantly aware of the fact you were proudest when I worked my ass off when I didn't need anyone to help me?"

She didn't intend for the hurt, for the desperation to seep into her voice as years of longing for his approval floated back to the surface. For him to acknowledge what she'd done, what she'd accomplished, what she had become because of her own damn hard work. No one else's.

Still, it was like he'd jabbed her right where she was weakest - right in the slit of her emotional armour. Just like her suit, she wasn't indestructible after all. Even Gordon's had their limits, and right now Barbara felt like she'd reached her's.

However, her father had always had this remarkable knack of being able to suppress any rising frustration, as if there were some release valve inside him he could just turn off and any anger would fade away. Barbara had always suspected it was the only reason he'd made it this far in the GCPD, or become so natural a leader.

Like now, he seemed to absorb her sudden friction driven outburst. Instead, he channeled it back out as a calm concern.

"Do you remember when you were little?" he murmured, still in that gentle tone. "What our lives used to be like?"

Barbara nodded. Her expression was blank as she struggled to see where this was going to go or what it had to do with what they'd just been talking about. "How could I forget? Those were some of the happiest moments of our lives, back when Mom and Jimmy were still around."

"You don't remember?" he whispered, leaning closer as he took her hand. Maybe it was the moonlight, but his face seemed older in that second… faded, like a pencil sketch that had spent too long in the sunlight. "It wasn't just Jimmy that had nightmares, Babs… You did too. For a few weeks, you wouldn't sleep at night, instead, you'd sit up reading until we made you try and go to bed. A few hours later you'd wake up in the middle of the worst state."

As he said it, it was like memories began gently bobbing to the surface of her mind - murky, and distorted from their times in the deep depths.

"I don't remember that."

"Well, I'm not surprised," her father sighed. "You're like me, even as a child you preferred suppressing emotions rather than exploring them."

Barbara blinked at the accuracy. She wasn't surprised either if she was being one hundred percent honest - as she had always said, she had idolized her father. For all his better and his worst qualities.

"But what has that got to do with anything now though?"

"I worry you're doing the same thing again."

"So what if I am?" she retorted, smirking as if it was obviously unimportant. "We're in a war zone, Dad. We don't exactly have the luxury of a pow-wow or therapy right now."

Clearly, her father didn't agree. "Babs, I don't want you going down that path again… ending up like you did last time you got like this."

"Like what?"

"That look on your face I see now, that was the look you had before… well, before that week," he confessed, forcing the words out with great difficulty. "I still think of that week, from time to time. It'll always haunt me as the greatest failure."

Barbara could remember it like it was yesterday, the week she'd finally snapped. Back when everything was happening and her Mom and Jimmy had just left… The week she'd run away from home.

As a kind woman had said to her at the bus station, running away wasn't about running. It was about gaining a sense of power - of control over something you couldn't control. God, Barbara felt just as powerless then as she did now. At least this time she'd found a more productive outlet, a more effective way to maintain control than running away - even if it did seem a hell of an appealing option right then.

"Since that day, I can't help but fear the worst when I see you look like that… like you're floating through the world."

Now his concern made sense. This whole intervention made sense. He was worried she'd run… or snap as she had before. Someone as sensible and composed as Barbara Gordon didn't just up and run away from home for no reason, after all. It was proof something had been stirring around deep inside her, even as a teenager. Something dark and familiar, something Barbara had been trying very hard to keep suppressed since this had all started.

"Babs, I know I didn't handle things well after … well, what happened. But it wasn't because of you. The truth is I kept thinking it was all my fault. That if I'd been a better cop, a better dad, then it wouldn't have happened in the first place."

"That is not true." Barbara's voice hardened even if her lip trembled subtly. It had taken her years to realize that for herself, and clearly, her father had yet to learn the same lesson. Blaming yourself only got you so far.

"I know, but it still feels like that sometimes. That so much has been taken from you, and yet you've achieved more than I ever thought possible!"

"I'm fine," she repeated forcefully, squeezing his hand. "I'm not checking out. Not now, not ever. Ok? I'm a Gordon like you said, and we Gordons' are tough cookies to crack. Why do you think you went into law enforcement? Why do you think I'm training to be a prosecutor? We don't run away from fights. We may not always start them, but we sure as hell finish them and that's a fact.

Her Dad nodded slowly, whether in acknowledgment or surrender she couldn't be sure. "I suppose I just find it hardest, as I've spent my entire life trying to liberate Gotham from one villainous force after another. I feel like I've failed this city, and myself, and worst of all - you, Barbara."

Barbara enveloped her arms around her father, hugging him tightly. "You failed no one, Dad. Gotham couldn't have asked for a better, or more loyal, protector. This? This is not your fault. At all."

"I am proud of you, kiddo, and all you've done. But I love you because of who you are, Barbara Gordon. Nothing will ever change that. You will always be worthwhile to me, and I'm always going to want to protect you."

It was as if she was back there, stood on the steps of the GCPD the day she'd come home after running away… Tired, in need of a shower and armed with only her duffel bag she had been a sorry but welcome sight. Her father had practically thrown himself at her the moment he'd seen her back in one piece.

The way he'd trembled as he held her, crushing her to his chest while tears of relief and joy slid down his cheeks had broken her heart. Never before had she seen him so vulnerable, nor so terrified… She had sworn to never let him feel that way again. Ever.

Yet, as he held her then on that sofa, she felt oddly reminiscent as she held onto him for dear life.

"Maybe you can let me protect you from time to time, as a change?" she teased breathlessly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "A team is always stronger than a single person."

"So you do listen to my prattling occasionally."

"I learned from the best, Pop." She hardly ever used that nickname, even though it had been one she had used frequently until she'd turned seven.

The truth was, she had only been half inspired by Batman and his legacy. Capes and masks were great and all, but the other half had been from her true idol: her father.

"I love you."

"And I love you, too." Once again, Barbara was keenly aware of the raw earnestness in her father's tone as he held her close for a while longer, and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. There was no need for them to say anything further between them on the matter… not when they'd both said enough for now. In fact, they'd probably said more in the past half hour than they had for the past few years.

Her father clearly felt the same, as he rose from the couch with a steady sigh. "You should go get some sleep, kiddo," he stated resolutely, offering her a hand. "We both should."

"I'm right behind you. Promise."

And she was, as she watched him leave the room with a final backward glance.

She, however, first made her way towards the sink to resume the quest which had brought her here in the first place. The one her father had waylaid with his sudden need for an impromptu heart to heart.

Barbara carefully took a glass from one of the upper cupboards. She held it under the tap, and drank slowly, letting the water quench her thirst.

A few more moments she stood there, basking in the silence of the place… the peace, even. So rare were these moments, that she hated to let them pass her by.

Maybe her father was right with what he'd said… maybe she was avoiding somethings, suppressing them so far below and out of sight. But she had been right about one thing too: there was no time or space to air her emotional baggage right now… there were more important things to concern herself with than making peace with the demons of her past and present.

Right now, it was her future that worried her most.

With a soft sigh, Barbara placed the glass back into the sink and decided to surrender herself to bed. As she had always been taught, her issues would keep till morning. Fretting only made them worse.

Her footsteps were light as she made her way through the darkened corridor. So caught in her head and her thoughts, she almost missed the figure silently waiting for her.

"Barbara?"

Blake.

It was hard to miss him there, even in the darkness, as he loitered in the doorway of his room. One hand was on the door and the other ran through his ruffled hair as if he had only woken up mere seconds ago. That, or he'd been waiting for her to return to her room so that he could try and ambush her like this… if that's what this even was?

Ugh. She was too mad to even try and work it out. All she wanted was her bed. She had no more energy that night for any more emotional baggage, and this fight was getting old… could he not wait until morning to start another round?

Apparently not as he stared at her in concern, and murmured, "I thought I heard you guys up talking. You ok?"

Barbara didn't even pause as she continued back towards her room. Engaging with him was beyond a bad idea and she knew it as immediate irritation began to simmer beneath her skin at the mere sound of his voice.

"I'm fine," she snapped sharply in dismissal. "Go away."

"Babs-" he pleaded.

Barbara didn't even acknowledge the nickname as her glare intensified. So now he wanted to talk? After blanking her, and answering in single syllables for almost a week, and now he wanted to talk to her?

Barbara couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was that made her snap, but one second she was practically snarling, the next a loud bang filled the apartment.

Her discarded sneaker landed harmlessly on the floor next to John, but still, his face was a picture. If only she'd had a camera.

"Next time I don't miss," she hissed, passing by him swiftly. The slam of the bedroom door made her feelings perfectly clear on the matter.


	18. Chapter 17

**_I said I would, and I did! Here you lovely people are. One chapter, hot off the press and less than a week since the last one. I'm on a roll..._**

 ** _Thesilentmage x_**

* * *

Barbara hurled the knife forwards with a swift flick of her wrist, and she watched it plant in the centre of the target with a satisfying thud. She turned quickly and flipped forwards to retrieve it, yanking the handle out with a tug. She presently cartwheeled backward and finished with a neat flip, landing squarely on her feet.

"Ta-dah," she whispered exhausted.

Within moments she was collapsed onto the mat in the corner and wiping the sweat away with her towel. She looked at the small clock on the wall and groaned; this was her fourth solid hour of training. She needed a break, but she needed to train more. She'd never be able to take on Gotham in her state, and after the other night with John, she wasn't going to let him be right about that.

She swiped her bottle of water from the corner and poured it down her face, feeling instantly cooler, replaying the fight for what felt like the thousandth time in her mind. She was dreading facing him again. Hence, why she'd snuck out that morning under the pretense of making a run for supplies, which she knew no one would question – not even her father. She just didn't have the energy to face John and had no idea when she would.

"Back to work," she grumbled resuming her weary stance in front of the beaten punching bag, which hung from the ceiling. Her fingers felt stiff and saw from her hours of punches, and the tape wrapped around her fingers was the only thing still holding her hand together. She wouldn't be surprised if she'd sprained a finger or two.

Yet, it felt good, releasing her anger on the punching bag again and again. She shook her hand and began her punches, adding a swift kick here and there. She continued, building her power and speed with each punch until she couldn't feel her body. She grunted.

It was then she halted having heard a voice from behind her.

"Mind your left arm. It's sagging."

"Oh yeah, and you could do so much better?" She swiveled around and turned to face her new guest, surprise written across her face as she saw who it was. "Blake? What are you doing here?"

John Blake stood leaning against the corner of the room, arms folded and a frown plastered to his face. He looked tired.

How had she not heard him come down? Wait… more importantly, how did he know she was here? Or even where this place was? Please don't say he knew that from following her too.

As if answering her mental worries, he stood up, slowly walking towards her, looking guilt-ridden. Or maybe she was imagining it.

"Well, I may or may not have forced Diane to tell me where you were because… because really I need to apologize."

She had not expected that.

"Now?" she groaned turning back to the bag throwing a few more hard punches in. it was easier not to look at him. "Now is not a good time."

She made a mental note to have a word with Diane later about being able to keep a damn secret, and not interfering in what did not concern her.

"When would be a good time?" John chuckled under his breath. "I don't exactly know how your day works, what with crime fighting and being Batgirl."

"Seriously? After days of the silent treatment, you now wanna talk?" Barbara paused dropping her fists and wiped her forehead. It was apparent ignoring him was not going to work here, not if she wanted him to leave her alone. It was far easier than starting something she didn't have the energy to finish. "I remember you saying something about sorry," she muttered, finally turning to face him.

"I did. I came to say sorry… I overreacted the other night. I had no right to say the things I did, if you want to be Batgirl then I am not going to stop you. In fact, I want to help."

That, she hadn't been expecting to hear either.

Again, it was easier not to face him as she processed his words. She silently scooped up her discarded jumper from the corner and threw it over her tank top. She then turned her focus on her sneakers.

"Thank you," she finally managed to say. "And I'll say it again. I'm sorry – for what it's worth – about not telling you sooner."

John nodded as if also processing her acceptance. The air between them was beginning to clear, even if it was still tight with tension. As if neither of them knew exactly how to navigate these waters between them, or what to say. This wasn't any fight or anything either of them had ever dealt with before.

"I think we both handled the situation… well, less than gracefully."

"We really are a pair of hotheads."

"Yeah, yeah we are," he smirked before his face resumed its' serious countenance. "I never asked you how you figured this all out, how you got this equipment? I mean, I doubt Bruce Wayne left an emergency set of keys in case someone needed to borrow his stuff."

Barbara blinked dumbly as if stunned for the first time in a long time that she hadn't considered that. How did John Blake know who the Batman was? "You… you know who he is?"

He nodded in subdued confirmation. "I worked it out a long time ago. I even asked him about it before all this started."

"You did?" she choked, still frozen to the spot. "Damn, and here I was thinking myself clever for working it out."

A soft laugh escaped John's lips. "Well, I'm not surprised considering it's you, after all. You can accomplish anything you want to. But I'd still like to hear that story sometime."

Barbara nodded softly, finally breaking free of her stunned stupor as she processed the last five minutes as best as she could. "Sure."

"I also didn't really listen, or allow you to explain the other night," John continued hastily as if scared of losing this sudden lull in hatred between them. "Which wasn't fair of me. I reacted badly from the shock. It was too much for me to kind of realize at once. That's why I've been so quiet recently, trying to process it all… I'd like if we could talk more, some time and maybe you can explain all this to me?"

Barbara nodded again, smiling as she accepted the olive branch he was extending her. "I'd like that too," she breathed. "Maybe after I'm done training, though?"

John laughed in agreement. "Deal. I wouldn't want to interrupt the 80's training montage you had going on in here, but you fancy a partner to spar with, rather than that punching bag?"

Barbara blinked, trying her best to swallow the bark of laughter that threatened to slip out. "You?"

"Why not?" John must be insane if he thought she was going to fight him. He could barely stand up straight, he looked so exhausted – plus he was a cop. "If you want to work together, to make this work then we need to learn each others' moves. Trust in each other's ability."

She looked at him and watched him as perched on the edge of the mat. There was an awkward silence as he stared at her.

"You… you're a cop. What do you know about fighting? … throwing a punch or two doesn't count." He laughed loudly and stood up far too quickly causing Barbara to frown. "I'm being serious, John Blake."

"You'd be amazed what I know," he practically purred, shooting her a rare playful smirk. He only saved that look for when it was the two of them as if he were well aware of what it did to her heart. Clearly hearing her say his first name again was enough to trigger it from him. "They do train you in combat at the Police academy you realize? Besides I grew up downtown. You learn a thing or two when you're fighting to survive."

She paused and tied back her hair. He made some sense, but still - the idea of fighting him, of getting that close… "Fine- I think, but … I won't hurt you?"

His grin widened. Was she really worried about that? "Worry more about yourself."

"Oh, really?" she teased, unable to help it now. "You haven't exactly trained in a while."

"Just … get up." The challenge was clear as John proceeded to take his sweet time and remove his jacket and roll the sleeves of his shirt up, revealing his muscular forearms in the process. The glint in his eye was enough to make Barbara's heart skip a beat as she followed his orders.

"Ready?" she cheered, planting her feet in their natural starting position.

Now, this was an apology she could get behind - one that meant she got to punch him?

John nodded, mirroring her actions perfectly and took a small step forwards. Barbara shuffled back and locked her eyes with his. Unwilling to let him get the drop on her she raised her fists, following him round in a circle, mirroring his movements.

After a moment she took her advantage and lunged quickly at him, ducking his well-executed blow and driving a fist to his back before kicking him forwards. He stumbled 'forward rolling' and landing in a crouch.

The whole thing had been so fast and so well executed that it was over before Barbara could even blink. Maybe she'd underestimated him.

"Give up?"

"Hell no," he grinned.

John decided to prove it, as she didn't have enough time to look before she was knocked to the ground by a swift kick to the chest.

The sheer force alone knocked all the air from her lungs. She gasped heavily as she lay on the mat, before being able to catch her breath. Still, hastily, she rolled back and swept his feet out from under him in retaliation.

John turned and leaped to his feet. Barbara watched him as he grabbed her arm, pinned it to her back and pushed her against the wall. She groaned kicking off the wall and flipping off it, landing next to John.

"Better," he critiqued, even if he failed to wipe off that awestruck expression of his face before he said it. "Where did you learn to do that?"

"Under 15 gold-champion at the state finals in gymnastics," she replied with a small smirk. "You?"

"I spent some time at the Dojo over on 5th."

"Of course you did. Circus kid, a street kid, cop, and a ninja. Great," Barbara chuckled breathlessly. She threw a punch at him, which was blocked presently by his arm. Barbara threw herself back, felt his foot whisper past her head.

John landed and came forward and she rolled and got up, before watching him snatch up one of the bamboo staffs, hanging on the wall beside them. She snatched one also, meeting the next swipe and kicking, but he twisted his body out of the way as he spun the staff, so that the long handle cracked against her head.

Cursing, Barbara stumbled, swung wildly with her staff to keep him back. The staff handle hit her knee and she howled, and barely managed to fend off the next blow.

John jumped towards her, his legs tucked under him. Barbara wondered at his skill; it seemed she was going to lose - spectacularly.

He closed in.

Barbara could see her reflection in the mirror on the wall. Her face was drenched in sweat, and her body was shaking under the strain, the only outward sign that she was struggling to keep up.

She bared her teeth in a half smile and said, "Come and have a go if you think you're hard enough."

John definitely thought he was hard enough, and he came in strong and fast. Barbara didn't have time to curse as she rolled and spun and defended, as her staff clashed with his, she started to wonder if she was going to win.

She dipped to the side and ran her staff hard against his legs. She waited for an opening and dropped her staff as she lunged forward, through John's guard. She kicked and swung the staff through the air at his head. He used her own momentum against her in order to hip-throw her to the floor.

Barbara yelled out as the air was knocked from her. She looked up at the staff that was aimed at her face and groaned.

"You win…" she gasped.

John laughed. Big mistake. You never turned your back on the enemy.

Barbara seized his distraction and swung her staff one more time, knocking him over, before pinning him to the floor. "I win," she whispered.

John burst out laughing, watching as she collapsed beside him, his face and body damp with the perspiration. "Not bad… we'll work on it."

She swatted his arm playfully. "Yeah… yeah…"

And for that moment, everything had realigned itself. As their laughter joined together, it was as if they were back there, the people they'd been only a week ago - so easy, so understanding of one another and all the chaos that surrounded them.

They belonged with each other. As they said, after all, like drew to like, and perhaps that wasn't the worst thing after all.

However, it was then that they heard the great groaning, as the floor ahead began its descent again, lowering into the warehouse.

The look Barbara and John shared said it all, as they prepare for the worst, both leaping to their feet in a flash. However, they didn't need to worry. It was only a familiar blond that had come to join them, not an intruder.

"Hey, thought I'd find you here."

"Diane?" Barbara smiled.

John, by this time, was on his feet grabbing his jacket. "Diane?" John almost blushed. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"This is technically my secret base too you know," she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest. "Although if you two want to organize secret meetings then give me a heads up, would you? Put a sock on the door or something. I'd hate to walk in on you two." She narrowed her eyes at John, then at Barbara, who squirmed under her gaze.

Barbara's eyes just widened as she tried not to flush. "We were just-"

"-Sparring," John finished for her hastily, not looking anywhere but at Diane. It was interesting he looked just as flustered as she did. "Just sparring. Nothing else. I was giving Babs some tips from my police academy days."

Diane just nodded, smirking smugly as she walked across the room. "Sure." She didn't sound like she believed them. "But I do have some news if you two aren't busy."

Barbara just rubbed the back of her neck. "We're not. What's up?"

"I was shaking some contacts Selina gave us this morning and last night. One of them gave me some intel regarding where Bane's keeping the bomb."

Barbara raised an eyebrow. "Where?"

She hadn't been the only one surprised when some random woman had emerged from the shadows during patrol the night before. They'd been even more stunned when the woman slid them a note. How Selina knew where to find them was a big enough worry to cause them to panic, yet what had been on the paper had been the more relevant thing…

A list. A list of contacts to shake for information along with information about Bane. Apparently, that was how Selina had been getting her intel before, and after their rendezvous the other night she now seemed to want to share. Clearly, they'd made a better impression than they'd thought.

Diane had been the one to volunteer to start working her way through the list whilst Babs figured out a plan. Diane had been busy with it through the night and the early hours of the morning, while Barbara had run their usual patrols.

"In a truck. One of the armoured ones he has running patrols around the city. He's been hiding it in plain sight all this time."

"Which truck?"

"If we could find the bomb," John began eagerly. "We could take it back, destroy it somehow."

"I don't know. I tried to see if I could locate it, but apparently, he rotates the vehicle it's in too."

Barbara just cursed under her breath and sighed. "At least we have something to go from; it's the first lucky break we've had in weeks."

"Does the Commissioner know?"

"Nope. Haven't told him yet. Just you two."

"We need to tell him."

"Oh, John?" "About this morning… I think it goes without saying that we need you to keep this a secret."

"I won't say a word."

"Good," she stated firmly. However, her face softened as she looked between the pair of them with genuine relief. It was as if she could sense the genuine shift in the air between them all, once more clear and jubilant. "Glad you two made up."

"Let's just get back," Barbara breathed, already heading back towards the platform. "We've got a bomb to catch."

* * *

Life in the safe house definitely had its ups and downs. Every day was different, even if their routine never truly varied all that much. By this point in the occupation, daily life almost ran like clockwork even with all its varied and numerous challenges.

Barbara was reminded of them once again as they made their way home that afternoon after their supposed 'time at the food center'. Her father would know no difference about that explanation, and none of them felt the need to correct that fact.

However, by the time the three of them had made their way back home through the icy, snow-covered streets Barbara was willing to sell her own soul to be able to turn on the heating.

That was probably why, two hours later, curled up on the sofa, she looked more like a blanket burrito than a human being. Diane had been the one to suggest the idea, hunting down any and all blankets, throws or other coverings that could be used to keep themselves warm. It was why she had three pairs of socks on currently.

"No food, no heat, no medical care, and no power. Brilliant. I think I'm going to go mad."

Barbara smirked at Diane's melodramatic nature, even if she did have a point. "You've made it three months so far, Di. You can make it a little longer."

"But how much longer?"

"Well," Gordon piped up, "at least no power means I don't have to listen to Barbara blaring Taylor Swift through the walls in her bedroom anymore."

Whether her father had revealed her secret merely to make a jibe, or in the interest of lightening the mood she couldn't be sure. To be honest, she didn't really care. Her father was so in for it now either way.

Barbara resisted the urge to throw the pillow at his head. "Dad!" she warned, but it was clearly too late as both John and Diane erupted into laughter.

"What?" he chuckled innocently. "I'm only telling the truth."

"You? You're a Swiftie?" John spluttered, making the moment a whole lot worse. As if he could suddenly see her old room, with posters aplenty of not only Taylor but a whole other host of celebrities and authors.

At least she'd hidden the worst of her memorabilia under her bed, which basically included numerous fanfics, artwork and cosplay outfits she and her school mates had made… long gone were those days of dressing up as wizards or other fictional characters.

"So what if I am?" Barbara shot back defensively, crossing her arms over her chest. "She's a lyrical genius, and her songs are rather poignant, so fight me."

"I'm not judging," he surrendered defensively, holding his hands aloft as he skillfully dodged a well-aimed kick to his shin. "You can like whatever music you want."

"Thank you very much 'Mr. Classic Jazz is the only true form of music artistry'."

"Yeah, well it is."

"But you just scream retro eighties ballads," she grinned. Diane just nodded teasingly beside her. "It's the true music of your soul, John Blake."

"I'm not sure if that's an insult or not."

Gordon groaned indignantly. "As someone who was present in the eighties, I can attest to that being a compliment - or it better be, coming from a daughter of mine. A daughter, I add, I raised to have artistic taste."

Barbara just sniggered softly. "Says the man who I caught singing along to all my Taylor albums on more than one occasion."

Silence.

"Where's your proof?"

Thankfully any argument that may have been about to escalate from this conversation was cut down flat by Diane's well-timed interruption.

"I hate to be the one to say it," Diane teased forcefully as if to remind them where this conversation had been headed before this little detour in the topic. "But if we can find the bomb Bane has and neutralize it then maybe we can end this whole thing, get some power back and all share our music tastes. We know Bane's keeping them in armoured vehicles. The ones we've been seeing patrolling everywhere."

Gordon nodded thoughtfully. He was clearly processing the information as best as he could. "If we could work out their precise routes then we'd stand a better chance at working out which one has the bomb, and when to try and take it out."

"I think I'm gonna need the laptop," Barbara grinned, interlocking her fingers and stretching so that they clicked. "I think we have some hacking to do."

"Get the backup generator," he ordered, nodding at his daughter.

Diane was the one to obey, digging back through the cupboard behind them in which they'd stashed pretty much anything useful or practical like the generator and other various household tools. She reappeared moments later, carrying the device and placing it down on the kitchen counter with a definitive clunk.

"One generator reporting for duty," she cheered, saluting the others as she stood back, allowing Barbara to take her position.

From there, she watched as she placed her laptop down on the side and opened the lid. Diane watched as they connected the generator and a few clicks later and Barbara was turning back to her father expectantly. "What next, chief?"

"Harvey has a contact who said he's seen the trucks go past 5th and central."

Barbara nodded, noting down the information before typing it into the keyboard. "If I can get into the satellite or CCTV feeds around Gotham I check the imaging for the past few months. I can get a bird's eye view of the truck and see what works in with the GPS… plot a virtual route for us."

Her father gave her a rare genuine smile of pleasure. "Good. That's good. We'll find those trucks yet, you make my words."

Diane adjusted her position on the bench and looked at the computer screens. "The trucks should be relatively easy to locate."

"Already one step ahead of you both," Barbara grinned.

Barbara had already begun typing the minute they'd begun this discussion. She watched as maps and surveillance cameras popped up, all homing in on her instructions. That was an advantage of the world today. You could do anything in just a couple of keystrokes. If you knew how you could unlock any door. The world was your digital oyster.

The rest of them watched as Barbara entered the last few instructions into the system. Instantly a red dot began to pulse on one of the maps before them. Barbara enlarged several surveillance feeds and smiled proudly as the data began to appear.

"Gotcha."

Diane grinned, leaning forward and examining their work with interest. "Seems you found them alright," she breathed watching the pixelated black and white video feed on the screen nearest her.

"That I did," Barbara replied with a smirk. "I can find anybody. I just hacked into the city's CCTV feeds and re-activated the cameras. What can I say? Computers just love me."

"Well, that works for me right now."

"Good," she beamed. "If I curate the algorithm to track their movements hopefully we can get an idea of their route."

Her father nodded first, looking surprised as well as eager as he watched his daughter work. Her tone, as well as the way her fingers danced across the keyboard, told him well enough she knew what she was doing. And for the following hours, Barbara did exactly as she had said she would.

Yet, it was after a while of working, that they called it a night. Barbara left the algorithm running on her laptop in the kitchen, stating she'd check on it in a few hours and see what route it came up with. For the moment, they could all use a break, and some sleep too.

Her father seemed particularly pleased by Barbara's agreement to get some sleep. She knew he was worried about her. Hell, even she was. She could hardly pry her eyes off the computer screen, watching anxiously for a result. It physically took Diane and her father pulling her away to work. Still, she got up, and headed to bed, knowing full well she would probably only get a few hours rest. But it was better than nothing.

She kissed her Dad on the cheek warmly, and bid him a good night. After she watched him close the door to his room, she did the same, practically collapsing on her bed as she did. To her relief, as soon as her head hit the pillow she was out for the count.

* * *

It was a few hours later, as predicted, that she woke up.

It always took her a few moments to process where she was as she awoke to the darkness and the bed that still didn't feel like hers. Months she had been in this safe house, and her body rebelled against the idea that this was home - as if it objected to this whole situation as much as she did as if it knew this displacement had to be temporary.

Or so Barbara hoped.

Optimism was always hardest in the dark, and when Barbara was unable to physically do anything to distract her brain from pessimistic or worried thoughts. If only she could have gone out on a patrol that night, but considering the fact she had spent so long working today her eyes actually hurt she knew it wasn't possible.

That and the fact she knew John and her father were actually home for once didn't make it any easier. Tonight was a rare night off… and she hated it.

With a huff, Barbara kicked back the covers and eased herself upwards. Laying in bed wasn't getting her anywhere, and considering how her brain was racing at hundreds of miles per second sleep didn't seem to be anywhere in the near future.

Instead, she decided to pull on a jumper and adopt her usual technique of seeking distraction elsewhere - presumably from the bookshelf in the living room. However, as she made her way there, she didn't expect to find her distraction waiting for her in the kitchen of all places.

"What are you doing?"

John immediately paused, hand still outstretched into the cupboard. He glanced over his shoulder sheepishly, and gave her a half smile, slowly pulling his hand out of the cupboard like a guilty toddler being caught. Barbara stared at the packet he had clenched in his hand and raised an eyebrow.

"I couldn't sleep, so decided to grab some food?" John offered, smirking. He sunk back off his tiptoes and held the foil packet up clearly for her to see.

Barbara glanced at the letters printed on the side, and her smile grew even wider. "Popcorn?" She uncrossed her arms and stepped towards him. "You do realize the microwave is out of action, right? And we're using a backup generator to power my laptop?"

John nodded smugly, shaking the packet un-phased. "Doesn't matter."

"Oh?"

"Yep."

"Why on earth is that? Do you just eat the kernels or something?" Barbara teased, hoping the answer was no. "Cause that would be odd."

John rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Of course not." There was a brief silence as they both stood, watching each other suspiciously. After a moment John chuckled lightly, gesturing to the window. "I could just show you," he offered.

"Show me what?" Barbara mused curiously, not sure what to make of this.

John flashed a surprisingly confident smile, which even spread all the way to his eyes, she noted, which glistened in the pale moonlight. "Grab a jacket and come on; I'll show you."

"Show me what? John?"

John didn't reply, instead, he turned, heading towards the window, packet in hand, grabbing a bag Barbara hadn't noticed off the side of the couch as he did.

Now, she was curious. Damn it. He knew her well enough to know that curiosity was all he needed to get her to follow him. Hence why Barbara swiped a coat off the hook by the door and kicked on a pair of shoes hastily. She followed John out the window without another word, clambering out onto the fire escape. Immediately she was grateful for the jacket, as the night air was freezing, and hit her hard, whipping through her hair and making her shiver.

Barbara merely groaned, and reluctantly followed John all the way up to the roof before actually asking why it was they were out in the middle of the night on top of the roof. To which his response was merely: "Wait and see."

* * *

"It won't work."

"It will."

"You said that ten minutes ago."

"More like five."

"Still…"

"Be patient."

"I'm being patient. It's just really really fucking cold."

"And?"

Barbara poked her tongue out childishly as she watched John, crouched in front of her add yet another piece of wood to the fire he had growing in front of him. It wasn't big by any means, yet the amber flames gave off small bursts of heat, which Barbara was incredibly grateful for.

She sat, crossed leg behind him, rubbing her arms weakly through her coat. Yet, despite the time, John didn't give in with his little endeavour, adjusting the aluminum tray he had before him.

John had somehow managed to craft a small grill upon which to balance the tray on, the popcorn packet slid inside. Carefully he watched, tending to his creation as he waited for it to pop.

Almost as if on cue, a small pop was heard, signaling success. John turned his head and beamed triumphantly at Barbara. And despite everything, she could only smile back. It was something about him, he just seemed so infectiously happy.

"I'd say I told you so…" he teased, sitting back beside her on the ground, holding his hands up to the flames to warm them up. "But I fear that would end up with me being thrown off the roof."

Barbara sniggered under her breath. "Too right. It's only your popcorn that's keeping you here," she warned playfully.

"Which I won't share if you aren't careful," John warned back, equally as playful.

"Well, you're right about one thing."

"Well, that's a first!"

Barbara swatted his arm and laughed lightly as she did. He was such an idiot. "Don't get cocky." She jabbed a finger at his chest and looked from the fire in front of her to him. "I was just going to say that this is fun. You were right about that. Don't let it go to your head."

John smirked, and held his hands up in mock surrender. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"Yeah. Totally believe that."

She lay back against the cold concrete roof and stared upwards. There was something heavenly about the night sky, all littered with stars and the moon. The fact it was such a clear night, made the sight only infinitely better, as did the company sharing it with her. This moment was almost worth the case of hypothermia Barbara was sure she would receive in the morning.

"I uh… I just wanted to say that… out of all the people in this city, I'm glad it was you who stumbled into our lives," she murmured after a moment, turning her head to glance at him.

"Me too," he replied. His smile was contagious as he nudged her arm playfully and lay down beside her. "I'm glad I got to know you, and your father, and even Diane."

"I just don't know how we'd have coped without you… or your popcorn," she smirked. "And I wanted to apologize - again. I owe you an explanation for everything, for the way I've been acting. You told me before about your parents, and I get it… My whole life I was forced to watch my Dad run into danger, and I watched it tear my Mom apart. To feel that helpless, all those years… It's enough to drive you insane, you know?"

"Babs, you don't have to do this-" he soothed, hand brushing against hers in a gesture she took as comforting. It was why she didn't protest as his fingers somehow interlaced with hers.

"I need to," she explained. "I need you to understand why, and when we fought the other night I didn't really explain very well… I mean, as a kid I watched my Mom get told my father was dead, that he'd been shot. I thought he was dead, and I watched as criminals and the corrupt tormented and abused the innocent again and again and again. I was kidnapped, my family almost killed. I couldn't even join the GCPD - the one obvious way I knew to fight back, to save people. It's why I want to be a lawyer. You know how it feels - I can see it in your eyes."

John was silent as he nodded, an odd solemnity falling across his features. "You're right. It… It was why I joined the GCPD."

"It was also why you saved my Dad, why you came back for us," Barbara whispered softly. "So yeah, when this all started with Bane it was like something inside of me snapped. I've just been here one too many times, John," she murmured, barely loud enough for him to hear. "I've played the helpless damsel before, always living in fear as the next psycho takes his shot. I was barely old enough to remember Crane and his gas attack, but the Joker and Harvey Dent… I'll never forget that as long as I live. I didn't take it all well the first time. I mean, once my Mom and Jimmy moved away my dad didn't cope well either. He worked all the time as his way of processing."

"And you?"

Barbara sighed heavily, wincing as the memories she had tried to repress resurfaced with overwhelming force. "I… I needed someone to talk to, to reassure me everything wasn't crumbling around me. Yet, my dad wasn't there, my Mom was too hard to talk to and Harvey had his hands full with Dad. One Gordon was enough without me piling on top. So, I spiraled and started trying to find some kind of lifeline which I thought would be working for the GCPD. Yet, my dad didn't agree. As soon as he got word of what I was looking into and planning, he shut me down flat. We had the biggest row we've ever had over that."

John winced, imaging the scenario well enough to know it couldn't have been pretty. That much was evident as Barbara's voice trembled a little as if struggling to restrain the emotions bubbling up inside.

To hear her like this, so open, so vulnerable… it made his heart ache with longing and gratitude. She trusted him to be like this, to expose herself and her inner feelings too. It was more than enough to tell him he'd been wrong to assume she hadn't trusted him before. It was also enough to make him feel even more of an asshole about his behaviour.

"What happened?" he pried gently, ready to retreat if she didn't want to talk anymore.

"I ran away," Barbara replied simply, turning to look him dead in the eyes as she said it. "I ran away from home for a week, hopped a bus to New York and crashed in some hostel a woman I met on the bus recommended."

"You… You did what?" he choked, unable to imagine the ever thoughtful, ever logical Barbara doing something as irrational and impulsive as running away. Then again, if he'd learned anything these past weeks it was that she was a far more complex woman than met the eye. "You ran away? Your dad must have flipped."

"Oh, that's an understatement."

"I imagine it is."

"Anyway," she murmured, continuing with the last of the story. "Long story short, I came home after I ran into none other than Bruce Wayne in the city. He supposedly was coming out of an emergency meeting with his new york branch when he happened across me in Central Park trying to get lunch."

John blinked. If he'd followed her story to this point, Barbara was sure she'd just lost him in the absurdity of that little plot twist.

"He… you…"

"I know," she smiled. "I've never told anybody that but it's true. He found me, bought me lunch and offered to drive me home. I didn't ask any questions, and neither did he. Instead, I let him spin a tale of coincidences and witnessed the most surreal car journey of my life."

"I can't even begin to imagine that," John confessed, still looking like he'd just been told the secret of eternal life.

"But that day… when he offered me a ride home… That was how I knew he was Batman. The look in his eyes… his mannerisms… they were the same as that night with Harvey Dent. I could see the same pity and determination in his face. Like then, he saved me again just with a different mask - the mask my father and the city had forced him to wear."

"So that was how you worked it out," John realized. It sounded so absurd, yet oddly plausible knowing Bruce Wayne as he did.

"Yep. So, now you see why I chose to be Batgirl," she continued gently, holding his hand tighter. She didn't even protest as he readjusted himself so that she could lay her head against his chest, rather than the cold concrete beneath them. "I just can't be that person again, John. I can't run away this time. I have to stay and fight for what I want, what I believe in. I want my shot at helping this city, and reminding these assholes that Gotham is a city of strong people - not cowards and damsels."

"Well, you're definitely not a coward, nor a damsel either." "And the truth is, as I said, I overreacted. Because the simple fact is you matter to me. Right now, I just want you to know that I'm right here beside you and I'll stay there as long as you let me. So, can we just call it even?"

Barbara nodded breathlessly. "I'd like that."

"I meant what I said this morning. I wanna help, and we can be a team from now on if you'll let me."

"Only if you keep making me popcorn," she giggled.

"Deal."


	19. Chapter 18

_**Thank you for all the wonderful messages and reviews since the latest chapters were posted. Here's some fluff and light action to tide you all over as we prepare to pick up the pace next chapter... mwahaha. Sorry ;) but I'm very excited to finish working on it. In the meantime, enjoy this tooth-achingly sweet chapter, just for all you John x Babs fans out there.**_

 _ **Thesilentmage x**_

* * *

On the surface, Diane Lance may have appeared to be the more logical one of the pair of them. However, she could be just as daring and impulsive as Barbara Gordon.

There was something comforting and relieving in that knowledge. Or at least, that was how Barbara saw it as she followed her friend through the city that night on another crazy adventure. This time, though, she wasn't the mastermind.

This had actually been Diane's idea. With every night that passed and every villain they apprehended, both girls felt their confidence grow. It was understandable when their reputation had grown as wide as it had, spreading throughout every dark and dangerous corner of Gotham City.

They only had to appear for people to start quivering in their boots, or if innocent - weep with joy. As such, both girls had chosen to capitalize on this new found power. The two of them had started taking routes separately, always choosing to remain on comms, but spreading their assets as best as possible through Gotham City. Their confidence had grown, as had their experience. They were not the same girls who had taken to the streets just over a month ago, quivering in their leather boots.

Still, Gotham was vast. The people that polluted the streets were too many for two girls to handle alone, and there was also the not too small issue of Bane and his bomb to handle … It was why the conversation they'd had yesterday was somehow expected, whilst remaining spontaneous.

"We need Selina."

"What?" The statement had been enough to startle Barbara out of the daydream she'd found herself in, stirring the pot of food they'd had going on the stove. "Selina? Selina Kyle? That Selina?"

"Yeah," Diane had stated so calmly and surely that Barbara knew immediately she'd given this a great deal of thought. Her attention had remained on the vegetables she was chopping as if somehow avoiding her friend's gaze. "I was talking to some people last night on patrol and they told me she's got eyes everywhere in the city. We saw her the other night ourselves, she clearly wants to help people even if she won't say it aloud. Besides, she also told us how much she loathes Bane and his goons wreaking havoc with Gotham."

"So what, you wanna induct her into our organization and start a girl band?"

Diane had sighed, serious despite the amused smirk she gave. "We could use another ally. You and I know it - unless you're telling me Blake is about to don a mask. Otherwise, we need more people on the street, and with her kind of knowledge… just think about it, ok?"

Barbara promised she would, but not without adding, "You're right."

And she was. They needed all the allies they could get. Something they were rapidly becoming more and more aware of as the days raced on by, their window for salvation narrowing with every passing sunset. Who knew how many more they had left…

So here they were, staking out what had been described as one of her more popular hideouts - a run down pawnbroker's in the Narrows.

Barbara knew Diane was right. They needed allies. Speaking of allies…

She had mentioned it to Diane several times, and she seemed as equally for it as she was. However, John had been less than enthusiastic at the proposal when she'd suggested it to him. In fact, he hadn't really said much since that conversation, going quiet when either she or Diane raised the topic. But it was his choice whether he chose to continue working in or out of the shadows. Either way, they needed him. Now, more than ever.

It was apparent he understood that too, as he also had remained true to his word and had said nothing of it all to Commissioner Gordon. If anything, he'd become their newest and best ally, covering for them with more swift and plausible excuses and opportunities than they could keep up with.

The bunker had also become his new favourite place to spend time when he wasn't busy assisting Gordon and their underground resistance. Sparring with him had become something of a hobby, the three of them taking it in turns to train against one another.

It was why Barbara knew that he had the skills and potential they needed for a possible new vigilante team member. However, it would be his choice and his choice alone if he ever chose to don a mask… They merely had to wait and see.

In the meantime, there were other possible candidates they could be chasing.

* * *

Cracked windows. Creaking floorboards, warped from damp. Rickety furniture that looked like it had been hauled from a dumpster… The room was not exactly how Barbara had pictured it. Selina Kyle, from what she had gathered, was a woman of impeccable taste with an affinity for the sparkly and the expensive. So this run-down pawnshop felt like the last possible place she'd choose to live.

Then again, that was probably her point. Gotham was too dangerous for anyone that drew any attention to themselves - either good or bad. Discretion was just as valuable as gold or jewels.

Barbara shrugged, eyeing the room suspiciously as she dropped onto the worn out armchair. Her legs automatically swivelled her body around so that she lay sprawled across it. She also ignored the small cloud of dust that erupted from the cushion beneath her.

The room was sparse of details, but Selina didn't seem the type to add domestic flourishes. Homely wasn't a word that rolled off the tongue when proceeded by Selina Kyle. Not when she was just like them: a creature of survival.

Perhaps that was what she was relying on: Barbara knew better than to draw on any sense of humanity or compassion, instead propositioning this as an arrangement of mutual benefit. In this case, actually living until they reached their next birthdays.

On one hand, breaking into her apartment didn't seem the ideal way to go about this but… Come on. They deserved a little bit of fun amongst their nitty-gritty daily lives… besides, Selina had had the element of surprise last time. They were merely returning the favour.

Luckily, they weren't waiting long. In fact, it was probably about twenty minutes later they heard the soft clack of heels on the weathered wood of the hallway beyond. A darkened silhouette appeared through the warped glass of the doorway, followed by the soft whine of the door handle turning.

To Barbara's amazement, Selina Kyle looked actually surprised to see them. Both of them. Sprawled out on her sofa. Like two cats she forgot she'd left at home.

"Wow," she snarked. She remained frozen in the doorway in disbelief and indignation. "Haven't vigilantes heard of knocking?"

"Didn't know we needed an invitation," Diane replied immediately. There was confidence as she leant back into the sofa and crossed her arms over her chest as if to make herself at home. Barbara wanted to laugh at her friend's audacity. She probably would have had Selina not looked quite so thunderous as she glared between the pair. "Nice place you got here."

"It's mine, and it's secure. Out of sight where nobody would bother to look for me… or it was," Selina lamented, kicking the door shut behind her with a definite slam. "Thanks for ruining that, by the way."

"You're welcome," Diane smirked sarcastically, tilting her head. "Call it us returning the favour for the other night. Gatecrashing seems more your style anyway."

"Besides, it's not like we had a phone number or anything to call to ask to see you," Barbara pointed out teasingly, watching as the woman entered the space, tossing her coat aside with a graceful flourish.

"And why would you masks want to see me? Don't you have more important things to be doing, like scuttling about the place jumping out of shadows?"

"We have an offer," Barbara breathed, choosing not to rise to the woman's jabs. "We know it was you who leaked the information to us that Bane was hiding the bomb in plain sight. We could use someone like you, with your resources."

"What? As a member of your girl scout troop?" Selina paused and turned back to stare at them over her shoulder. The expression said it all, almost as much as her dismissive tone as she chose to inspect her nails rather than make eye contact with either of them. "Sorry, I'm not really into the whole fighting the good fight lark."

"Says the woman who's done a lot of that recently."

"I'm not a charity worker."

"And we're not charity," Barbara bit back, trying to take out the venom that had slid into her voice at the implication. As much as she respected Selina Kyle, admired even in some ways, the woman did have a remarkable self-arrogance about her that managed to rub Barbara the wrong way. Whether it was genuine or some kind of act Barbara had yet to determine. After all, they all wore their own masks in Gotham City - some harder to discern than others. "We are a part of this city just as much as you, Selina. We all live here, for the moment. Bane is a threat to all of us - not just the rich or those he considers corrupt. We all have to pick a side in this war, Selina."

"I am," she stated bluntly. "I'm choosing mine."

"Doesn't count I'm afraid. Not to Bane and therefore not to us."

"What's it going to take for you to actually get you off that lofty cloud you reside upon and admit that you actually have a heart?" Diane suddenly sniped, her temper finally getting the better of her. She broke her silence, standing up and squaring herself directly into the woman's eye view as if trying to watch her force the answer out - to hide back beneath the facade she had so skillfully created. "Why else would you help us the other night? You didn't take anything for yourself."

"My motives were my own. I don't have to share them with you just because I didn't kill you. We're not friends."

"Clearly."

Barbara rolled her eyes. This arguing was getting them nowhere. Clearly, Selina recognised that fact for herself, as her expression rapidly softened.

"I'll keep my eyes out though," Selina conceded softly, as if afraid of voicing it aloud. "I give you my word on that, and I'll pass on anything of interest."

They had shaken hands, steely resolve and understanding clear in all their eyes.

For now, they had a deal.

* * *

It was official: hanging out on rooftops had become Barbara Gordon's newest favourite past time. Whether or not she could put it on her resume she wasn't quite sure, but she felt it had to at least now qualify as a special experience. It had also made one thing clear to her: she infinitely preferred doing it in the darkness of the night. Crouching on her front to avoid being seen during the day was both uncomfortable and embarrassing. It felt oddly like hiding. Barbara Gordon didn't hide.

That and the grit kept poking her stomach uncomfortably.

Her hands rubbed together as she tried to warm them, letting her breath mist in front of her. Being cold was almost second nature by this point. Barbara could only dream about what it would feel like to be warm again.

"How long now?"

Her tone was clipped, even if also gentle. It wasn't John's fault the weather was crap after all. That, and he'd been the only thing making this morning bearable. What was it about them that kept putting them in this position? Somehow they seemed to be drawn to rooftops.

Still, like their last encounter together, he was more than enough to brighten up Barbara's mood. He made endless puns, jokes and remarks that had Barbara almost crying with laughter. At least he made terrorist hunting almost fun.

"Not much longer," he cooed, winking at her evident impatience. "Ten minutes less than the last time you asked me."

"Well, sorry if this isn't my ideal way to spend my day."

"Really?" John teased, nudging her with his elbow as he adjusted his position. Once more he glanced subtly at the street below for signs of action. "I don't know. There are worse ways to spend the day than hanging out with you."

The comment was enough to draw yet another unwilling smile from Barbara's lips. Ugh, help her. The man was infuriating, with his quick wit and charming personality. The worst part about him, however, was that he was fully aware of his effect on her too.

It was why Barbara poked her tongue out at him in reply. Luckily, she was saved from adding any words as the distinct rumble of a vehicle approaching echoed down the alleyway below.

She knelt closer to the edge of the rooftop, staring down as the truck rumbled past. She couldn't help but feel a small sense of satisfaction as she nodded at John, knowing their timing was perfect. They had Bane's routine cracked and today's observations had only proved it.

"10:15, exactly," she murmured. "No change to the past few days."

"Thankfully," John replied, smirking a little as he gazed up at her, putting the map back into his coat pocket. "Hopefully it means we have a shot at forming some kind of plan. This was the last truck anyway. Now we have all three mapped."

"If only we knew which one was the truck we needed."

"Exactly." He paused, grinning once again as he stared directly at her. "Don't suppose your computer skills could work it out somehow?"

"I'm flattered, but I'm not some Superman," she grinned smugly. "Even some things are beyond my extraordinary abilities."

"Huh, how modest of you." His swagger vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a genuine sincerity as he turned to stare directly into her eyes."Still, you and Diane have been a large help."

"Oh?"

He nodded. "You've been keeping Bane and his men busy the past few weeks. They've been so busy they've been distracted, getting sloppy, making mistakes."

"Mistakes you've been exploiting?" Barbara grinned, a slash of a smile sliding into place. "So I'm your diversion? The bait?"

His hand slid down to cup the back of her neck as he said with a roguish grin, "You are our salvation, Batgirl."

His words knocked the air out of her lungs. Or maybe it was the way he was looking at her, so close to her face that she swore she could feel his breath caressing her cheek. She was well and truly speechless.

One day she was going to return the favour - tenfold.

* * *

"I don't see why this is necessary."

"Stop moaning."

"I can't see a thing."

"I got you. Just trust me, we're nearly there."

Barbara rolled her eyes, knowing full well John felt it through the hands he currently had covering them. For some reason, he had insisted upon her not seeing anything as they headed back inside the building.

What he was trying to hide she had no clue, but oddly enough she didn't feel the need to ask. Whatever was going on here had obviously got him all excited and she didn't dare ruin his giddy mood.

"Just don't let me walk into a post or anything," she warned under her breath. "I'm trusting you."

John chuckled but nodded. "I'm honoured. I promise not to walk you into anything, now will you quit complaining? We're here."

"Really? Can I look now?"

She heard the soft whine as the door opened in response. With that, she was finally allowed to see again. However, she was not expecting the sight awaiting her as his hands lifted from her face.

"Happy birthday!"

Barbara looked around with a weird sense of déjà vu; the sound of music echoing through the apartment and the lights hanging along the walls. It was if from some odd dream. The last time she'd seen a house this festive had been … well… she almost couldn't remember. Birthdays had never been a huge thing for her since her Mom left. Birthdays, in general, weren't a huge deal in Barbara's eyes. All it did was mark the fact she was a year older; and personally, she didn't feel like she needed reminding.

It had always just been her and her Dad, celebrating over dinner out together. They'd then watch a movie of her choice at the movie house down the street… their own little tradition. She remembered those evenings with a certain nostalgia. It was odd, thinking about how her life had been back then. It felt especially odd when she compared it to now. So much had changed.

As if reading her mind, she felt John slide his hand in hers, locking his fingers round and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. She smiled up at him, admiring his features in the moonlight and the chemical glow of the Christmas lights. The multicoloured beams gave his face another dimension, and she noticed (not for the first time) how handsome he was.

"What the hell?" she gaped, looking back and forth in disbelief. "You guys did all this? You guys remembered?"

"We couldn't let Bane steal all our fun," Diane cheered, holding her bottle aloft as she hurried over for a hug. "Happy 21st, Red."

"Happy birthday, honey," her dad whispered, taking his turn to hold her close. He paused, kissing her forehead as he had always done. His voice sounded a little broken, tinged with emotion. He tried to hide it. "Happy Birthday, God…. Twenty-one years old... I can hardly believe it. I remember it like yesterday, you coming home, only a small baby, cradled in my arms."

"You guys," Barbara managed to choke, struggling to find the words as she took the room in. The idea they had gone to such trouble, and on her behalf as well… it made her heart ache with gratitude. "This was the surprise? You didn't have to."

John shrugged. "What can we say? We enjoyed having an excuse to forget about Bane for a while."

"We even foraged you presents," Diane chuckled. "Although don't get your hopes up for anything too fancy."

As small a gesture as it was, it was enough to make Barbara's heart swell beyond control. Her eyes widened, and she found herself struggling with the overwhelming urge not to cry.

"You guys being here, in one piece… that's a present in itself. It's all I could ever want."

"No. No gooey emotional talk tonight, Babs," Diane scoffed teasingly, giving her one more massive hug, as if to cut off her impending waterworks. "You're not allowed. This is a party after all."

"True."

"So let's open your gifts," she cheered, steering the girl towards the sofa triumphantly. The others followed eagerly, helping themselves to the stash of beer bottles on the table.

"Did you steal these?" Barbara smirked in disbelief.

"Think of it as rehoming abandoned goods," Diane countered, shoving a bag toward her. It was hard to miss the way they'd somehow wrapped the bin bag with miscellaneous streamers and pieces of tin foil as makeshift decorations. It made Barbara's heart surge again in disbelief and affection. "You can give them a good home."

The logic was amusing as Barbara reached inside the bag to reveal the assortment of items bestowed to her. First, there was her father's. His gift had been oddly touching: a single postcard of Florence, Italy. "It's a promise," he explained softly, pressing the card into her hand. "From me to you that we'll see this one day."

It had almost brought tears to her eyes as she enveloped him in a hug, knowing what he meant. What this meant for them. A Gordon never broke their word after all.

Second, there was Diane's gift. In true Diane Lance style, she had found Barbara a new leather jacket, a purple one to be precise, to replace the old one she had left abandoned back at their true home. Fortunately, it did happen to look rather stunning on her. Barbara was pleasantly surprised as she tried it on and did a mock catwalk through the living room - much to everyone's amusement.

Then again, she was sure the beers were to blame for everyone's jubilant mood. With every drop consumed the room filled with yet more laughter. Music even, as someone located a rather weathered looking battery radio along with some rather odd looking tapes.

Then, finally, there was John's gift… Even as she had slid it from the bag she felt her breath hitch. He had somehow located her a copy of 'The Scarlet Pimpernel' - Barbara's favourite book, her only copy of which remained back at home in her old bedroom. She was surprised he even remembered her mentioning it all those weeks ago.

As she turned to the inside cover, she realised he'd inscribed it. Inside he'd written –

 _'To Barbara,  
you may have your own mask that you wear, but I want to say thank you for letting me see beneath that. It's an honour I will never forget.  
John'_

Barbara had been genuinely touched. He may not have always been the most eloquent with words, or with his small talk, but when it came to honesty then Barbara couldn't fault him.

A single smile was all she had to offer him in return.

* * *

Conversation had never been an issue for the four of them. Left to their own devices, these four could talk for hours on end about anything and everything. Apparently, as they discovered that night, beer only made this easier.

"You've never heard Diane sing?"

"No."

"You're missing out, buddy," Barbara chuckled, unable to help herself as she watched John's poor bewildered expression as he sat further forward, almost sliding off the armchair he was perched on.

"I'm awesome at karaoke," Diane protested, only making Barbara snigger harder. "When this is all over I'll take you out and prove it."

"Deal," John chuckled, hands held aloft in surrender.

"Lord have mercy on you, lad," Gordon chuckled knowingly. It was enough to tell John he'd just made a colossal mistake. "They'll have you up before the night's out, mark my words."

"I've just signed my death warrant, haven't I?'

"Yep, and don't you forget it."

"Oh come on," Barbara sniggered, her words slightly slurred. "It could be fun - maybe you should come along too, Dad."

"Oh, hell no."

"You should all come to Starling too," Diane sighed wistfully. "After this is over - that is. My family may be dysfunctional, but we do mean family dinners. It would be nice for you all to meet them properly. I think you'd all really get along. "

"I think we would. That sounds like an amazing idea."

"Three cops and two lawyers at the table? Sounds like it would be an interesting mix," John teased, eyeing them all with amusement.

"We should do something fun _now_ though," Diane protested. "I can't be bothered making these future promises and maybes that may not ever happen. I want to have fun now."

Barbara couldn't help but feel the same as her stomach churned uncomfortably at the thought. "You know, we should build a blanket fort."

"That's an amazing idea!" Diane beamed, her excitement getting the better of her. "How have we not thought of that before now? We could have the cutest little camp out in the living room!"

Gordon sniggered. "And here I was thinking my daughter had just turned 21, not 21 months."

"Oh ssh, grumpy." Barbara poked her tongue out in childish defiance. "You're just mad you didn't think of it first."

"Absolutely not," he retorted, but his expression betrayed him. "You go ahead and make all the blanket forts you kids want."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Diane and John were lost for the moment in debating the issue. It was why they probably didn't notice as the two Gordon's sat back a little, turning their focus to one another rather than the party.

Jim reached for his daughter's hand; she looked up with surprise to see her father's face.

"Barbara, I want to say that despite everything I'm…" He looked down, obviously struggling to find the right words. "Now that you're older, I realised how much I've missed over the years. I've tried my best but, I need you to know... Everything I do, everything I've ever done, it's been for you. You, your mother, even your brother. I just... I'm sorry. I haven't been a great father but I love you... and I'm so proud of you."

Barbara blinked, quite taken back by her father's uncharacteristic confession. Like him, she wasn't good in situations like this. She tried to comfort him as she knew that he probably felt guilty, her voice was low as she replied. "Dad… what happened to no gooey emotional junk?" she teased lightly.

She was honestly quite surprised. What did she say to that?

"Dad… the four of us, we were never happy in Gotham. Mom was miserable for years, James probably was too. When they got the chance to leave they took it, and I just couldn't stand it for ages. I was so angry with them. But I always knew that it was for the best… this place needed you and me more than it did Mom and James. They didn't like living here. They needed to be happy - even if that meant being without us," she tried. "And you've been the best dad I could ask for. You have been my role model for years. Don't doubt yourself."

He patted her hand before pulling away.

Barbara smiled and shrugged, her tone was lighter now. "But … anyway, I'm here now. With you. I don't want anything else. We're a family."

"Yes," he replied, looking over her shoulder and smiling at the two other people behind her. "We are."

It was as if he had finally seen what Barbara saw. This was more than just a room full of people, thrown together by unforeseeable circumstances. No. They were now more than that in every possible way. In fact, her father was pretty much right.

They were family.

"And I think what this family need, is more beer," Barbara added playfully, shoving another can into his hand.

He knew better than to refuse. Instead, he cracked it open and knocked it against her almost empty one in cheers. "I'll drink to that, Babs."

"Me too."

He would indulge her for tonight. Tomorrow they could return to normality, but for tonight they were all as desperate as one another to escape and indulge themselves in some happiness. Honest to god happiness. It was the least they deserved.

* * *

The party continued way into the early hours of the morning. Barbara had long since lost track of what time it was. Every drink and every hour slid past with nary a care. The only sign of time slipping past was the darkness outside, growing stronger until the world became as black as pitch.

On one hand, she could have stayed up all night laughing, singing and drinking. On the other hand, she felt her eyes beginning to wane as exhaustion sneakily crept up on her. Too much longer and she feared she'd end up face down on the sofa, out like a light.

Apparently, she wasn't the only one to feel that way as Diane began to gather herself to her feet. She groaned and stretched from side to side. "I'm gonna clean up a little."

"I'll help," Barbara added with a soft smirk. She immediately noticed as both her father and John opened their mouths to protest. "It's the least I can do after all the effort you guys went to," she added before they could, beaming as they surrendered.

"I'll help too," Diane smirked, impressed with Barbara's ability to wrap both men around her little finger. Still, as she got to her feet John suddenly leapt up too, beating her to the last empty black sack on the table. The wink he shot her was devious as she gasped, "Cheater!"

"Nope. I think you're just too slow, Miss Lance. And also a little bit drunk."

"So?" she slurred, grinning ear to ear as she shrugged casually. "Aren't we all?"

"And on that note," John continued, turning Diane round so that she faced the corridor behind them. He left very little room to protest. "I think it's time we all called it a night, and you get some sleep."

To her credit, Diane just rolled her eyes but surrendered to his orders. Her sudden need for her bed apparently was stronger than her need to try and remind John she didn't listen to him. "Okie dokie," she murmured instead, waving over her shoulder as she began to make her way back to her room. "Night night everyone."

A unanimous chorus rang out as the others wished her good night in return. Still, it wasn't that much longer before the Commissioner decided to copy her and make his own way to bed. He rose and also bid the pair of them goodnight, stealing a hug from Barbara as he went.

"You two should get some sleep too!" he warned parentally, eyeing them both as he left the room. "Else you'll regret it in the morning."

Even though she wasn't a prophet, Barbara knew she wasn't going to regret a single part of this night the following morning. Or the morning after that. How could she? Not when they'd all made this night unexpectedly perfect in ways beyond her wildest dreams.

If anything, the only part she regretted about the whole experience was her inability to repay their kindness and generosity. A mere thank you didn't seem enough, but it was all she had to offer. That, and cleaning up the mess they'd left in their wake behind them.

She watched as they trailed off to bed, leaving just her and John alone, sat in the silence of the living room with the remnants of their night. Scattered beer bottles, Christmas lights and plates were all that remained of the celebrations.

The faint echo of music in the air lingered, filling the silence that opened between the pair of them. Neither one said a word, letting it hang between them instead.

Quietly, Barbara leant down and began to gather what she could in her arms. Each item was placed methodically in her black bin sack.

"Here, let me do that," John automatically offered, reaching for the small pile of plates in her hand.

Barbara instinctively paused, shaking her head in protest. "I can manage."

"I know that - doesn't mean you should have to on your birthday."

"True." She couldn't help the smug grin that settled on her lips. "Thanks - again."

"Anytime," he purred back. Automatically he resumed her task, gathering the last of the discarded wrappers and plates in his hand and tossing them into the black sack.

Again, silence resumed between them, filled with the odd glance or smile, the music still echoing softly in the background. It was nice, almost peaceful. Maybe that was why after five minutes or so Barbara found herself humming softly.

It was when she realised John had stopped to listen that she finally admitted: "I love this song."

She sighed whimsically, listening to the lyrics. God, she hadn't heard it in what felt like a lifetime. When she was a teenager she had spent countless hours lying on the rug in her parent's living room, rifling through their CD collection. It had been ones like this that had made her heart sing, even if it had apparently made her brother's ears bleed.

"Really," John purred. The mischievous glint in his eyes was obvious. Barbara almost knew exactly what he was about to say before he'd even opened his mouth. "Care to dance, then?" John asked suddenly, turning his body to face her.

"Really?" Barbara paused, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. "You know I have two left feet-"

"Lies," John countered playfully, hauling her to her feet and tossing their half-full black sacks aside. "You're an incredible gymnast, and I've seen you dancing around when you think no one is watching, so no lying Miss Gordon."

Barbara wanted to scold him for the use of her full name but found herself unable to do anything but laugh as she gazed into his teasing eyes. They were almost as bad as his puppy eyes, and that was saying something. John Blake knew how to wrap her around his little finger and it drove her mad.

Barbara opened her mouth to protest but didn't get very far at all. Dancing wasn't really her forte, but there she felt him slowly pull her toward the centre of the room and allowed him to embrace her as they became lost in the moment.

Who was she to say no? Not after all the trouble, he'd gone to.

John slid an arm around her waist, pulling her slender figure against his. Barbara returned the gesture gratefully by sliding her arms around his neck, keeping both of them close.

The evening air was icy, but Barbara hardly noticed, feeling the warmth of both her partner's and her own body heat resonating between them. From here she could smell him, creating an aura of comfort.

At first, their moves were awkward, neither really knowing how to dance, let alone together. Eventually, they slowed their steps, becoming small and even, keeping both comfortable as they rocked to-and-fro in time to the slow beat in their own rhythm.

She loved this song; it was one her parents had played when she was little. It was 'I only have eyes for you' by The Flamingos. She could remember the afternoons when her mother used to fill the house with music, particularly old music.

"You know what this reminds me of?" Barbara breathed slowly after a moment.

John looked at her, shaking his head. "What?" he asked curiously.

"Prom," she replied with a soft giggle. "Not that my date was anywhere near as good looking, or as good at dancing, as you are."

"I never really had a prom," John confessed, rocking her gently his arms. "It was just one of those things."

"No prom? Even I suffered the whole 'dress and date' ritual," Barbara teased, pulling her head back so that she was staring into his eyes. "You really didn't have a prom?"

"Nope. I didn't really feel like it at the time."

Barbara paused, feeling her face fall a little bit. She leant upwards onto her tiptoes and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. "Well then, you can consider this your 'almost prom dance'."

"Oh, it'd have been a whole different story if I'd had you as a date," he laughed in response. Barbara laughed also, letting him spin her under his arm and dip her, catching her in a strong embrace. He lifted her back upright and eased them into their original position.

"Same goes for you," she smirked back.

He flashed her one more smile, beaming as he took the lead again, letting them rock back and forth to the music. Resting her head against him and closing her eyes for a brief moment, she could swear that there was no one else around. They were alone in their private moment.

There was something so addictive in it, to have someone just hold her like this. Not trying to pull away, or even kiss her. All it was, was two people holding on tightly to one another without an ounce of selfishness to it. This whole time, since the whole mess had started, Barbara wasn't focused on anything else other than this- this moment right here.

"I promise, I'll take you out dancing properly if we make it through this."

" _When_ we make it through, John Blake," she countered firmly and with enough force that John knew it was wiser to nod in acceptance and continue to sway with her about the room.

His arms kept her close as they went. It was why Barbara probably felt drawn towards him as she leant her head against his shoulder. She smiled as she felt his chin rest atop her head in reply.

"Thank you for being such a good friend," she murmured into the fabric of his shoulder.

She knew he'd heard when he replied, "Anytime, Babs." He paused a moment before adding a soft, "Happy birthday."

She felt more at peace than she had in months. Her heart fluttered, and with a soft sigh, she savoured the remainder of their night.


	20. Chapter 19

_**Sooooo who's ready for some action and over-due angst? Mwahaha ;) I've been promising it for a while, so here it is ladies, gents and non-binary folk... it's time to kick this story up a gear. Did somebody say,** **Bane** **?**_

 _ **Thesilentmage x**_

 _ ***Warning - there's quite a lot of violence in this chapter, so just a heads up if that makes you uncomfortable.**_

* * *

Yet again, time began to slip through their fingers like sand. Barbara only had to blink before she found herself gaping in disbelief that another week had gone by. One whole week? She'd been twenty-one for a whole week?

It didn't feel like it. Then again, it wasn't as if she had achieved anything substantial in her eyes since then. The last seven days had passed exactly like this one seemed to be, with Barbara trying to kill time until the sun finally set.

Whereas she'd started out in her bedroom, she had relocated to the lounge window ledge, planting herself down and her laptop on her knees. The sunlight streaming onto her was a radical improvement from the darkness of her room, and the cushion nest she'd built far more comfortable than the small chair at her desk. After Barbara's back had begun to cramp she had known it was time to relocate herself.

It was easier when her father was out, as he was then with Harvey Bullock and several other members of their league. Fewer distractions made it easier to try and work, and not remember the fact time was passing all too rapidly for her liking.

Then again, the safe house apartment was only so big. Distractions were never truly possible to avoid completely. A fact Barbara was reminded of as she pushed her glasses back up her nose and felt the heat of someone lingering over her shoulder.

Diane paused, staring at Barbara's screen with confusion. "What you doing?" she sang.

"Sending an S.O.S to the U.S. government," was all Barbara said in reply.

"O… ok?"

This was the latest in an ever-growing list of day time hobbies and projects Barbara had adopted to fill her time and give her a sense of purpose. At least this one was less dangerous than running herself ragged tracking Bane's men and criminals at large.

It was probably that realisation that comforted Diane enough that she didn't feel the need to ask anything else. In fact, she gave a small nod of acceptance before continuing on past the doorway and leaving Barbara to it.

Barbara smirked underneath her breath at her friend. Some things never changed, and Diane's motherly concern was one of those things - even if she'd deny it till the day she died. God forbid Diane Lance to be seen as anything other than a strong independent woman. Then again, Barbara had seen beneath that composed powerful exterior, and to the caring loyal person beneath. There were some masks she was more than familiar with after all.

With a soft sigh, she returned back to her work. Her fingers danced effortlessly across her keyboard, almost as if they had a mind of their own. This was how she remained until a small while later when yet another presence interrupted her thoughts.

The door opening was the first hint someone had returned. As she glanced up, however, she realised exactly who it was.

John? He was home already? And without her father?

Curiosity etched itself immediately into her face as she was unable to hide her surprise at his unexpected arrival. Then again, it wasn't totally unexpected.

She had grown to recognise his footsteps. She had grown to recognise everything about him, from his scent to his breathing. Blindfolded she'd have known him in an instant.

No, her surprise stemmed from the fact that he was back earlier than she'd expected. It was nowhere near dark yet outside. In fact, looking up at the sun she realised it was still late morning. Yet, here he was.

"John?" she stammered sharply. "You're home? Is everything ok?"

He nodded, undoing his jacket as he closed the door behind him. "Yeah, I left them talking about starting a message network. This is more their scene than mine. I felt like a spare part stood there whilst that lot resumed their roles as leaders and my superiors."

Barbara blinked as she processed that information. "You did?"

"Yeah," John smirked, "So when they started talking about splitting into teams I thought I'd take that as my cue - Your father and I thought I would be more useful here to keep an eye on you both, and I could at least tell you he won't be back until later tonight, possibly even tomorrow. He and Harvey wanted to run some trial relays to a possible contact. The others decided to try their own as well, and they'll see what works."

"What? He's staying out there, in the dark, alone?"

John shook his head as if sensing her rising panic. Her father may have been protective but Barbara Gordon would be a hypocrite if she denied inheriting that trait for herself. "Harvey promised me on his life he'd take the Commissioner to his to spend the night if it got too late or risky to be out on the streets. I trust his word."

Despite her initial panic, so did Barbara. It was the only reason she wasn't halfway out the door, all ready to knock some sense into the pair of idiots. Ugh. Stressing about the daring duo would one day be the death of her.

Weren't parents supposed to be the ones that worried about their kids, not the other way around? Then again, nothing else seemed to be normal these days. Perhaps it was only right on more thing was messed up under the new world order of Bane. Up was down, and down was up, whilst war raged outside in the streets and mad men ruled the terrified.

It made Barbara's head hurt.

"So do I. That's not what I'm worried about when it comes to those two," she replied eventually, taking a deep breath as she suppressed her frustration. She slammed the laptop shut. "God, I hope they're careful out there. Else, I'm going after them tonight on patrol."

That was enough to elicit a smirk from John at the thought. "That I'd pay to see."

"Would you now?"

John nodded. "Definitely. A Gordon show-down? That's something no one should miss."

Barbara rolled her eyes. "You're incorrigible."

"I know," he winked deviously. "But uh… That wasn't the only thing I wanted to come to talk to you about though."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," he continued softly. His gaze suddenly seemed to drift from her as he rubbed the back of his neck - the immediate tell that whatever this was it was enough to be weighing on his mind. "Can we uh, talk?"

"Aren't we already?" she teased, but the look on his face told her it was better she just went with him. It was why her mannerism became far soberer as she nodded. "Yeah… Uh, of course."

With that, she slid from her seat and padded after him, following him down the hallway and out towards the fire escape. Clearly whatever this was warranted privacy… or the nearest thing to it in this tiny apartment.

There was no hesitation as she watched him pry open the worn window frame. Yet again, she faithfully followed him without a word. She clambered onto the window sill, refraining from asking why he wanted to talk to her out here in the cold morning wind.

However, maybe it was her blind faith or focus, but Barbara didn't realise there was a patch of ice on the metal grating. She was oblivious right up until the moment she felt the sole of her shoe slide helplessly, throwing her off balance.

Thankfully, just as she fell forwards, she stopped. Something caught her, steadying her upright with care. She didn't even need to look to know that it was John who was responsible, his hands grasping onto her arms tightly.

The way he held her though, cradling her meant that not only had he stopped her falling, but he'd also drawn her closer out of instinct.

The realisation of that, as it caught up with her hastily, was enough to make Barbara blush. Especially when, she noticed the fact that now his lips hovered mere millimetres from hers. The heat was enough to prickle against her skin in the cold morning air.

"Are… are you ok?" he uttered breathlessly.

"Yeah. Thanks for the save there," Barbara managed to reply, even though neither of them had made a move to pull away. "Stupid ice. Always gets me - I'm a real clutz."

"Me too."

"Well, clearly a better one than me," she smirked nervously. It was just odd to feel that way around him. Not once since she'd known him had Barbara felt nervous about being close to him in any way, or like every word out of her mouth was the wrong one. It was probably why she finally pried herself away, stepping back to a 'safe' distance with her back against the wall.

They both coughed nervously as if trying to clear the air between them.

"So…" John finally dared to start, looking anywhere but at her. "I uh… I wanted to … talk…"

"You said."

"Yeah… I did."

"You know you suck at small talk, right?" Barbara jibed as silence fell between them again. She almost couldn't stand to see him like this. It was painful to watch. "John, just say whatever it is that's on your mind."

John coughed. It was as if he was mentally scolding himself for struggling to get the words out. "What I wanted to say was that I realised the other night, that I… I know your story but I never really told you mine."

Now, it all made sense.

"You don't have to, John," Barbara automatically soothed. It was instinct that drove her hand to lay comfortingly against his arm.

"It was why I've been so … reluctant to accept all of this vigilante business. Because I've watched too many people I… I care about suffering because of this city." His eyes finally lifted to stare into hers. It was impossible not to notice the way they shimmered with an emotion Barbara almost couldn't place. Desperation as he leant closer to her, holding her tight. "I lost my Mom when I was little - as I said."

"I remember," she nodded gently, encouragingly even as she heard his breath hitch. She also felt the way his arm tensed beneath her hand, as if afraid to let his fears escape out into the open.

"And my father was shot when I was a kid too. It's because we were with a circus troop at the time. Hayley's circus. We did well most of the time, but after my Mom died we started having financial difficulties. He took a loan out to support it, but he couldn't pay it back on time."

It was hard to see that pain in anybody's eyes, especially of those you cared about. Barbara had learnt that the hard way.

"I saw it happen, and I saw his body lying there afterwards."

"I… I'm so sorry." It was all she could think to say, even though she knew it would never be enough. There was nothing anybody could say in that kind of situation to ever come close to making it right. All she could do was remind him he had her to count on, no matter what. Despite his fears, she wasn't planning on going anywhere. "As I said the other night, I'm staying right here. I'm not going anywhere. We made a deal, remember? John, I-"

She never got to finish the sentence. John would never know what it was Barbara had intended to say as she was cut off by a sudden burst of noise from his coat pocket. A noise which both of them knew meant only one thing.

He paused, pulling the radio out of his pocket. It was the emergency one he had for only one reason, with only one person having the other end.

Father Reilly.

Barbara's blood ran cold as she heard the radio burst into life. Even more so when she heard the voice on the other end - the last voice she'd expected to hear.

"Blake? Office Blake?"

"Adam?" John choked, surprise written across his face. Apparently, he felt the same as Barbara to hear none other than the kid on the other end, so full of distress. "Why are you calling me?"

"I... There's an emergency... I knew I had to call you, Father Reilly said to," Adam stammered hastily, sounding startled by the sudden assault from John as well as whatever was happening over there.

John looked as if he had been tasered, turning white at the news. Barbara's own heart had begun beating faster. Whatever had happened, it clearly wasn't good. There was no other reason Father Reilly would have sent one of the boys to call for help in such a way.

It made Barbara's blood run cold, as did the word that followed next from John's lips: "Emergency?"

"Emergency?" she echoed breathlessly, "What kind of emergency? Did something happen at the home?"

"Yes!" Adam continued frantically. "You have to come, Blake. Now! Please!"

"Already a step ahead of you," he muttered, his face saying it all. "Adam- stay there, ok? Find somewhere safe to hide and tell the others we're on our way."

"Please hurry."

Static was all that remained.

* * *

John Blake had always been a man of action. It was a fact Barbara had learned about him almost the very day she'd first met him. It was also why Barbara was not surprised to find herself in this situation now.

The very moment the radio had gone silent, John had run. He had already been halfway out of the door by the time Barbara had hastily grabbed Diane, knowing they could use as many hands as possible right now. Who knew what awaited them the other side of the city?

Still, Barbara and Diane could only follow hastily, trying to keep up with John as he hurried to the vehicle they had left stashed behind the building for a reason just like this.

Without even checking they were still following, John had already thrown himself into the driver's seat, keys heading for the ignition. Barbara didn't even have time to put on her seatbelt before John had slammed his foot onto the gas and jolted the car into life.

No one said a word as they tore out of the lot, and out on to the abandoned roads. In fact, silence hung in the air thickly as each kept their eyes firmly focused on the icy road ahead. Each had the worst possibilities playing through their minds as to what the emergency could be.

Barbara bit her lip sharply as she tried to banish such thoughts from her head. Whatever it was they would deal with it. She only prayed to God that everyone at the orphanage wasn't hurt or worse…

She didn't know what she'd do otherwise. It was daytime after all. The sun was up - this didn't make any sense. Then again, perhaps she'd been an idiot to be lured into a false sense of security… to think that bad things only happened around here at night, when the world turned dark.

"Blake, turn off at the next-" Diane began.

Barbara never found out the end of that sentence. Her attention was instantly taken elsewhere as a sudden bright light reflected off the rear view mirror. She didn't know what to make of it and winced, squinting.

Turning around, she saw that behind them was what looked like a large black van; the sun reflecting off the bonnet like a warning beacon. She couldn't make out the driver though through the tinted windshield, but one thing she saw was that it was alarmingly close to their bumper.

"John," she began in warning, but he'd already seen it.

"What the hell? He's gonna hit my tail the minute I stop."

A sickening feeling formed in her stomach. This felt oddly suspicious: particularly at this speed and when the roads in this part of town had been mostly quiet for the past months.

Deep down, Barbara knew that that probably was the aim. She just didn't know why someone would want to ram their tail on purpose. Barbara opened her mouth to say something but stopped.

Oh god… She gasped in terror as it made sense.

Her eyes locked on the van behind and watched as it rammed itself against them.

All those in the vehicle cried out as they were thrust forward by the sudden momentum. Diane was thrown against the dash painfully, and Barbara felt the seatbelt strap digging into her shoulder as she was hurled forward out her seat.

John looked back and cursed loudly. "What the hell?" he yelled angrily.

The van had drifted back a little but instantly sped forward again, ramming them hard.

"He wants to play like that does he?" John muttered suddenly, swerving their vehicle. His foot hit the pedal with a great force and Barbara watched the needle climb on the speed gauge. She gripped her seat until her knuckles turned white. Now wasn't the time to play bumper cars…

She looked back. The van hadn't increased speed. It seemed they'd gotten away.

Almost.

Barbara opened her mouth to warn John but was too slow, only being able to watch in agony as the van sped up again, and charged at them.

She turned around and felt it as the van clipped their tail and sent them spinning, helplessly out of control.

John gripped the wheel and grit his teeth as the car spun faster and faster.

It felt like that one time Barbara had gone on the cage ride at that amusement park; spinning around and around helplessly, watching the world blur. She panicked.

The black van charged again.

"Hang on!" John cried.

Light filled the car and instantly Barbara felt her stomach flip as all she heard was a terrific crash and the whine of metal on metal. It made her ears hurt.

Barbara lurched forwards, strangled by her seatbelt, and bashed her head against the doorframe beside her with great force. The street beside her had tilted to a new angle and she realised she was flipping forwards. She heard John curse in front of her and Diane cry out, and for an instant she was weightless.

Then the car hit the ground again and jarred her against the dashboard.

Eventually, the vehicle rocked back on to its tyres, making them the right way up again. The vehicle was now positioned horizontally across their lane, the front facing the concrete barriers that ran along the road.

Barbara looked at her knees, her eyes wide and her head pounding. What was happening? It was Bane's men, wasn't it? She should have known this would happen.

Slowly she looked up, gazing around the vehicle. She could see Diane moving with great haste in the front. It seemed she was alright, save for the small cut Barbara noticed, that bled discreetly on her forehead. Diane glanced at back Barbara and nodded, releasing her seatbelt before glancing at John beside her, not moving.

Barbara wanted to reach forward to him instantly, wanting to check he was ok. Her heart was beating uncontrollably; adrenaline, fear and panic, all of which were coursing through her. Instead, she left Diane to aid him.

Barbara turned, snapping upwards to gaze out the window across from her, blocked partially by the barrier they'd collided into. Still, she tugged at her seatbelt desperately and wasted no time removing it.

She had to plan. They had to move.

She shuffled across the backseat and tried to release the door opposite. However, just as Barbara felt the door release, the window exploded behind her, glass showering inside the back seats.

Barbara covered her head hastily with her arms and watched as the others flinched. "Shit!" she cursed.

She was about to move to help when a loud sequence of gunshots sent her diving to the floor of the car. Bullets pierced the metallic shell of the car, whistling past her.

She crawled back, reaching for the door handle above her head. She was relieved to see Diane and a now conscious John, also sliding towards their door too.

John lashed out several kicks, pounding at the door that had buckled under the impact, trapping them inside. Within a second more both doors had opened, allowing the three of them to leap out.

A brief glance around the side of their vehicle was enough to tell Barbara they were penned in by about three vehicles, including the one that had rammed into them. Together, they had stopped, forming a wall, blocking them in. The only exits were either over the barrier in front of them or down the streets that expanded off the junction on either side.

Where did they go from here?

The three of them ducked, sheltering behind their car and waited for the gunfire to cease. A second later the shots stopped.

They heard it as a van door opened and closed. Footsteps, running…

Diane turned, peering around the edge of the vehicle curiously. What she saw made her gulp.

Men. About ten of them standing by the large black van, armed with large machine guns aiming right for them.

"MOVE!" she screamed, bolting forward just as she heard the sound of them firing.

Barbara and John burst forward with her, diving in different directions behind the barrier. Barbara rolled out the way as a loud explosion filled the air, and the car they had just been by erupted in a ball of flames. Barbara stared back in horror, a wall of heat knocking into her. That was close.

Instantly the gunfire began again.

It only took a moment for Barbara to realise she was trapped on one side of the barrier, while Diane and John were trapped right next to her, behind a dumpster down the alley.

It was an endless rain of bullets, getting louder as the men got closer. Glass shattered and sparks flew as each bullet made contact with their vehicles.

This time she didn't have her suit. She didn't have anything really to defend herself with.

That was a different story however, for Diane and John, as they reached quickly into their many pockets and pulled out their pistols. Barbara frowned as Diane stood up, firing small shots off at the army approaching them in a spearhead formation.

Since when did she have that? Barbara knew John carried a gun as a member of law enforcement, but she had Diane had sworn to keep Batman's oath… But then again, as if Diane wouldn't have brought something with her. She never had been a huge fan of the no killing rule.

"I THOUGHT WE SAID NO GUNS!" Barbara cried out in surprise, watching over the tail of the car as Diane caused three men to hit the ground.

Diane ducked back down behind the cover and looked at her in disbelief. "YOU REALLY WANT TO ARGUE ABOUT THAT NOW?" Diane screamed in return. She rolled her eyes. Honestly.

Barbara sighed, kneeling up to gaze over her own car. If they stayed here they were dead. They had no weapons, except two guns, and no-where to go. The army of men, dressed in black was approaching all too quickly.

There was a sharp crack, which echoed down the streets, and sent shivers down Barbara's spine. She gulped, recognising the sound immediately as gunfire filled the air. Instinctively Barbara ducked to the side, looking for John as he did the same.

It was pointless, she knew it, but the trashcans, road barriers and dumpsters were all there was to shield themselves. In this position spread across the junction, they were like fish in a barrel, with no way out.

However, as she leant forward to lunge for John, more cracks filled the air, as shots landed near her feet. She stumbled back and gasped.

Why were they shooting at them? Had Bane really decided now was the time for this battle? To lure them out of hiding? Or was this a mere coincidental ambush?

She didn't have time to answer, as she heard John's voice calling to her to stay back. She shot him a look of desperation and understanding.

They had to move.

Barbara began trying to think. Shit. There were now only a handful of gunmen as the threat here, even if they were getting closer. And three of them with numerous routes out of here if they were fast... Those were odds they could work with. It wasn't great, but it at least gave her a plan.

"John!" she cried, "Run. We need to split the fire! They can't get us all at once!"

The look John shot her said it all: that was an insane idea. "What?" he demanded, wincing as more cracks filled the air. "Are you crazy?"

That was something she was seriously asking herself right now. But she didn't see another choice.

"Maybe!" she replied, locking eyes with his. She saw the panic there as he understood exactly what was going through her mind. She would do anything to protect him, and those she cared about. Anything. No matter the cost. It was a serious problem, actually. Hence, why she opened her mouth and sent him an apologetic look.

"Go!" she screamed, gesturing for him to move as she leapt to her feet.

With that, Barbara bolted, sprinting down the alley towards the street, not looking back as she did, swerving her path side to side to avoid hits.

The gunfire had followed her, but never hit her, spraying concrete and dust as the bullets rained down on the streets below. Barbara had to hope John and Diane had taken the chance, and run. Else, this was stupid.

She could hear the panic as the gunmen split themselves up, sending two after her. That left only two left for John and Diane to handle.

Good luck. They were gonna need it if they wanted to keep up with her or get past the other two where they were now at an almost even standing.

Her heels swerved, and she lunged for the street next to her. As she made it around the corner of the building nearest, Barbara stopped, gasping for breath.

Then she heard it.

Silence.

The gunfire had stopped. In fact, as she stood there, back pressed against the wall, the icy air burning her lungs, she realised it had stopped completely. She could hear no more shots.

As tempting as it was to make another dash for it, now it was supposedly clear, Barbara waited, listening. Nothing... Not a peep. What the-?

She took another deep breath, ignoring the shaking in her hands, and peered slowly around the corner, keeping to the shadows as a cover.

No one was there. The street was empty. There was no one in sight at all. Huh…Well, this was almost worse than the gunfire from before. The fact it was so quiet worried her, making her feel remarkably like a baby deer, being stalked for prey.

Her head turned. Cautiously, she looked around the street, letting her eyes linger on what she suspected was an overturned car just ahead. However, it was the reflection in the windshield that made her heart stop.

She saw the figure moving towards her, gun in hand.

She sprinted to the side tripping on the icy concrete but regained her balance swiftly as a bullet just missed her. She had to get away from here.

She took off the opposite way running on. Her hair whipped back as the breeze blew past her, her heart thumping louder with each second. She looked forward, not back. She had to find a way out of here.

The street was too long and too wide, and there was no way to lose this guy. Instead, she spotted her exit and turned off into a narrow lane and sprinted towards the shadows. She heard him behind her, heard the heavy footsteps in pursuit and didn't dare look back.

However, she never made it to the alley.

Instead, there was a loud bang.

Barbara stopped, feeling thrown forward from a great force. She gasped as white-hot pain erupted within her shoulder and she looked down at the blood spilling over her coat. Her legs went from beneath her and she crumpled to the floor. It was like nothing she'd felt before. Tears stung her eyes and she tried to control the overwhelming senses of panic and shock that were surging within her.

Barbara screamed, having to bite her lip to control the pain she was in.

She had to move. Lying there would get her killed. Instead, she was here, in the worst pain she'd ever experienced and trying to survive.

"Come out, come out wherever you are…" a voice taunted loudly, echoing through the air.

Barbara waited with bated breath, hauling herself as best as possible out of sight. Still, wounded as she was, she was going nowhere fast. All she really wanted was to just lie down and get pain killers. Mega pain killers.

That was the final thought she registered slipping through her head. One moment she was staring down the street, the next her eyes were gazing upwards at a never-ending grey sky.

So large… so empty… then, there was only darkness.

* * *

Barbara was terrified.

Her hands were shaking violently as she tried to fiddle with the steel handcuffs that had been strapped without care to her wrists. They shook so violently that she kept dropping the bobby pin she had precariously balanced between her fingers. She didn't know whether it was the sub-zero temperatures in the room or her terror that was to blame for it. She cursed angrily as once more the pin slipped from her grasp to her feet, laying on the floor.

She'd been closer that time. Obviously not close enough though, else she would actually be able to feel the blood rushing in her wrists again, instead of watching them turn blue from the tightness of the device. The metal was rubbing her wrists raw and she only wished she could get them off faster. The guy who had put them on clearly didn't want to take any chances with her. She'd protested and struggled, but they'd been just too strong for her.

It had been a miracle when she'd dug in her coat pocket and found that she had had a pin in there, but what good was it if she couldn't use it?

She leant back, closing her eyes and resting her head against the wall behind her as she took a deep breath. It was no good. She wasn't going to be able to do it, to free herself. She was stuck here until someone came for her; perhaps it would be one of the thugs who managed to surprise her earlier.

She still felt bitter about that, being caught by surprise. Her shoulder burned agonisingly where they'd shot her in the alley and she really wished she had some aspirin. She knew the pain that was forming would only get worse if she didn't bleed out first. Just her luck.

Never mind, she had bigger things to focus on. Like getting the hell out of here.

Barbara sat up again, reaching for the bobby pin and began her efforts.

She was currently in a damp basement-like room underneath what she assumed was City Hall. She recognised the faded brickwork around her from hundreds of news shots, plus she'd caught a brief glimpse of her location as they had removed the black sack from her head on the way down here, before chucking her in this hell hole. She was in, what she assumed, was an empty records room, sealed off from the narrow corridor by a large steel door, several feet under the ground floor.

Barbara had tried opening the door several times when she had first been left here alone. Unfortunately, it didn't budge. Not an inch.

She didn't know how long she'd been down here. All she could see was that it was now dark outside.

Where were the others? Were they safe? Had they got away? Did they even ever make it to St Swithin's?

It made Barbara's head hurt to even consider. There were too many questions at that moment, and nowhere near enough answers.

"Fuck."

The curse felt oddly well timed as she rolled her eyes and kicked the wall viciously. The fact the door then finally creaked for the first time since she'd arrived down here brought her crashing back down into reality. Somehow she knew she was about to get some answers, whether or not she wanted them…

Barbara gulped.

The door whined dangerously, the metal grinding as it was unlocked from the other side and suddenly forced open.

The panic at the realisation of what was happening made her hands shake even worse, causing her to drop the bobby pin to the ground again. There was no time to pick it up. There was no time to try again. Barbara had only just enough time to look up as the sound of footsteps filled the cell.

She had visitors. Several of them.

The first two were unknown to her… but the third. Oh, the third Barbara would have recognised anywhere in a heartbeat. After all, with a face like that and the body of a giant, who could ever mistake Bane?

This was the monster… alive and in the flesh before her very own eyes. If she hadn't before, Barbara now well and truly knew she was in a whole world of trouble.

The way they entered the room also sent a sudden chill down her spine.

"Miss Gordon, it's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Barbara gulped silently, rising so that she stood a little taller as she looked at the warlord. If she'd thought Bane terrifying before, it was nothing with being so close to him.

"I'm sorry if I can't say the same," she replied icily, stepping closer to him as she spoke.

Bane just laughed, shaking his head and gripping the lapels of his coat in his melon-sized hands. It was unnerving hearing the man laugh. It sounded mechanical and almost forced, yet there was a genuineness in his eyes that startled her. "I must apologise for the way you've been treated Miss Gordon, but we couldn't take any chances. You've been causing me a lot of pain and I knew I simply had to meet you – by whatever means were necessary."

"Including shooting me? Shepherding me towards your men?" she snapped viciously. Bane just nodded, and the final pieces fell into place. Barbara felt the sickening realisation in her gut as she realised what had happened here. "There wasn't even any emergency, was there?" she continued, bitter rage pouring out of her. "You lured us out."

"Adam is a brave lad and was only doing as I told him to. For you see, his brother is also a brave young man, but a foolish one. He decided to try stealing from our food stores a few days ago but was caught by one of my men. Adam fulfilled his end of the bargain to save his brother."

Barbara felt even sicker. This man had no limits, did he? "So you'll let him go?" she enquired.

"Let him go?" Bane almost laughed. "Who said I'd let him go? No. I said I wouldn't kill him. His brother will remain here until his trial- where he will be judged by the people of Gotham- as you will be too, Miss Gordon- for your crimes."

"Crimes?" she seethed. "What crimes? I've done nothing but help people!" It was Barbara's turn to laugh coldly, masking her fury. "Sorry," she chuckled, giving him an innocent look, gesturing with her cuffed wrists. "Me? I don't know what you're talking about. Why would you want to meet me? I'm just plain old Barbara Gordon."

"Then you'll be found innocent, won't you?" he teased. He smirked, releasing his hands and pointing with one at her. "Barbara Gordon; daughter of the police commissioner and now, Batgirl too."

Barbara felt her heart flip inside as she struggled to hide her surprise. "Batgirl?" she gasped, surprise edged in her whole demeanour. Most of it was genuine. "Me? Again, I don't know what on earth you're talking about. I thought it was the Bat _man_ , not Batgirl."

Bane sighed, looking down at the floor, before glancing back up at her, beginning to pace the room making Barbara even more nervous than before.

"Don't deny it, Miss Gordon, we both know that such foolishness is beneath you. I know everything about you and what you've been up to in my city these past few months, you and Miss Lance that is-"

"Your city?" Barbara exclaimed suddenly. "Don't make me laugh. You may be the one currently 'in charge', but Gotham will never be your city," she interjected angrily, stepping closer and glaring at him with pure rage in her eyes.

Her interruption had surprised Bane, causing him to turn and frown at her. She had a fire in her, the fire he'd been told about. Seeing it for himself was amusing. It was almost identical to her father's.

It would make crushing her all the sweeter.

"Believe what you want Miss Gordon, but this city is mine and under my control. Nothing you or your little friends can do will change that."

"Oh yeah? We'll see about that," she scoffed bitterly. "Remember, every bad man gets what's coming to him."

"Then it's lucky that I'm not a badman. Merely a man on a mission."

"A mission that involves endangering and risking millions of lives? Breaking hundreds of laws? What kind of mission is that?"

"A mission not too dis-similar than yours Miss Gordon," he stated all too calmly, and all too coldly. Even with his mask on, she swore she could see him smirking beneath with sick satisfaction. His eyes practically burned with it. "We're simply on opposite sides of the fence."

"We're on entirely different planets!"

Again, that only seemed to entertain him more. "You've got a fight in you. Good."

This whole thing made Barbara's skin crawl, feeling more like a science experiment than a threat to him. Why else did he appear so interested, and amused by her? It was as if this was all some macabre game to him. Then again, this was a man who dealt in souls and lives. Humanity was meaningless to him.

It was why she gulped, bristling as she felt his body pace beside her, his eyes lingering on her bloodied, broken form.

"What do you want with me?"

The question was blunt, but an honest one - as was his reply.

"Well, I can't have you causing me any more trouble," he explained softly, turning his attention back towards the door. "I need to have you somewhere I can see you. Here is the perfect opportunity to do so, whilst you help me."

"I'd never help you," she spat defiantly.

"We'll see Miss Gordon. You'll learn that that fight in you isn't going to help you here. Collaboration will. Just tell me what I want to know and we'll get along fine."

"What the hell do you want to know?"

"For a start?" he began. Then he turned. His eyes narrowed and Barbara knew she was well and truly fucked. "Where's your father and his little gang?"

"As I said, I'll never tell you. Go to hell."

"So be it, Miss Gordon, just remember you bring this on yourself." His ominous tone wasn't lost on Barbara, especially as she watched him nod to the man stood behind her. His hands instantly seized the back of her shirt and hauled her to her feet. Before she had time to even understand what was happening she felt it - she felt it as Bane drove his fist directly into her stomach making her cry out.

With that, the man dropped her, letting her smack back down against the concrete. The force of the blow had already left her breathless. Barbara all but choked as she clutched her stomach, desperately trying to fill her lungs with much-needed air.

"I'll ask you again Miss Gordon; where are your father and his men?"

"Go. Screw. Yourself."

She gagged as her mouth filled with blood from where she'd bitten her lip from the shock. With a snarl, she spat it onto the ground… the first drops to be spilt. She had a horrible premonition there would be more to follow.

"Fine. Let's play this little game, see who is the stronger of us. I can assure you, you'll never last more than a few days."

"Try me," she growled, more fiercely than she'd ever believed possible.

"So be it Batgirl. Seems your wings need to be clipped a little."

He approached the door and knocked loudly against it. The door was opened a moment later and he disappeared through it, taking with him any hope Barbara had left inside her.


	21. Chapter 20

_**So, anyone else in denial? I'm still reeling from Endgame and the latest Game of Thrones... Maybe that's why I decided to channel my angst into this chapter and get it out to you wonderful people.**_

 _ **I will confess though, that it is a little shorter than usual as this is only half the original chapter I had ready to post. I split it into two as it was getting pretty long. But don't worry, I'm editing the other half now so you will have it asap! As always, I love hearing from each and every one of you. Till next time...**_

 _ **Thesilentmage x**_

* * *

Sparring. Sparring with Blake… a phrase that once upon a time would have sounded completely bizarre to Diane Lance. Nowadays? Not so much.

She paused, tying her hair back as she watched her partner striding his way across the dimly lit warehouse and towards the designated zone they had used as their training area.

Blake stepped in slowly, giving her a small smile as he did. He seemed quieter than usual that evening, but he didn't need to speak. Whatever it was, hopefully going a few rounds would help get it out of his system. It normally did.

This was one of the easier ways to keep him occupied. Making him feel useful had a placating effect on him, as well as helping her to channel his never-ending frustration at their lack of progress.

Needless to say, Diane was more than ready to let it all out on the mat. Blake seemed to be too by the way he rolled up his sleeves and clicked his neck side to side.

"Blake, you sure you're good?" she asked casually.

"Yeah. Fine," he replied quickly. He was too dismissive as he stepped up, his sneakers squashing the foam beneath them as it took his weight.

"Definitely?" Diane continued, spreading her feet into a starting stance and squaring up against her opponent.

Again, Blake just nodded. "Definitely - so bring it Blondie."

"If you say so."

With that she lashed out, driving her foot at his chest sharply, twisting her body as she did. She gave no warning. She merely clenched her fists and began the match without another word, catching Blake entirely off guard.

Blake smirked, using the force to swing around and knock her off her feet.

Diane yelped a little, as her legs were pulled out from beneath her. She went to the ground instantly, but twisted, catching herself and turning so that she lay on her back. She tilted her weight, sweeping her legs over her head and then swinging them back forward so that she leapt up to her feet. She gave Blake a small glance, but lunged, driving her fist towards his head with all her strength.

Blake barely had time to blink as he ducked, grabbing her arm, flipping her over him as he'd been taught. Seizing her wrist, he pulled her over with him as he went. He landed therefore on top of Diane, pinning her awkwardly to the mat.

As she gazed up at him though, she couldn't help but notice his eyes seemed cold for once… almost empty as he stared down at her on the mat. Then, there was the fact he was being stronger than usual, for some reason. It left her a little curious, if not confused.

"Blake?" Diane breathed. This wasn't like their normal sparring matches. Not by far.

What didn't help was how he didn't respond to the question. Instead, he pushed down a little harder on Diane's arm so that there was a small burst of pain in her shoulder, causing her to react with a yelp and break free of his grip.

Blake didn't waste a second, watching as Diane sprung to her feet with him, and went in again, driving two sweeping punches at his head and another sharp kick.

She ducked, grabbing him and taking him down to the floor in a fluid twist, sitting on top of him to keep him pinned as best as she could.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong, Di," he quipped back instantly.

He looked into her eyes for a brief second and Diane felt her heartbeat increase in panic. Blake lashed backwards, throwing his head up and smacking it against Diane's nose and twisting out of her grip, all within a split second.

"Could have fooled me," Diane retorted, flinching at the pain of her nose, but she gripped him, rolling with him on the mat.

He winced as she pinned him in payback.

"I'm not trying to fool you-you need to be harder with me," he scolded, squirming underneath her. He gave her another punch as if to prove it. "You're being soft."

"It's only because it's you."

"Me? Don't. Come on. Show me everything you've got."

"Blake, I'm not hurting you."

"You won't!" he snapped.

"Fine."

She continued, her face flushed and perspiration lining the top of her forehead. She pulled back, slipping out from his grasp and jumping to her feet. She knew he knew what this was about. He knew why he was being like this. He just wasn't going to tell her - annoyingly.

"Come on then. Again. Come at me."

Blake didn't need an invitation. The mere signal Diane was ready again and his fists began to fly, one way then the other in a rampage of blows. Each of which, Diane blocked with ease, ducking and diving around him as if this was all some kind of game - a game she was definitely winning.

"Faster," she snapped, driving a sharp punch towards him. "Plan your attack, watch your opponent - don't just lash out."

Blake barely had time to respond before he ducked, rolling out of the way with an indignant protest. "Don't scold me!"

"Then prove me wrong."

The invitation was there as Diane all but stood still, arms outstretched awaiting his attack. With a ferocious growl, he brought it, only to find his worldview suddenly turning as he flipped through the air. His arm twisted behind his back as Diane seized him, slamming him over her body and onto the floor.

The look she gave as she stared down at his prone form said it all. That, and the cocky foot she placed on his chest.

"See," she snapped. "You need to sort yourself out."

"I get it. Let's go again."

"Not until you cool it," Diane sniped, stepping back to let him up. "You'll be no good to me, Gotham or Barbara if you can't speed up your reaction time and chill the fuck out," she scolded, wiping her forehead as she grabbed her water bottle off the bench. "You're acting like this is some wrestling club. The streets aren't about posturing - it's about being sharp and strong. Get in, punch, get out."

At least his background was in boxing and gymnastics. It meant he was light on his feet, better at bouncing and diving about. That was one strength at least. He just needed the technique to apply it to, and the focus to concentrate on not just starting an all-out brawl.

"I'm off on patrol. Go home and cool off Blake before you get us killed." She froze, lingering in the doorway as she turned back to face him. "I miss her too, ok?" she whispered, all harshness and venom gone. "We'll get her back, but only if we're smart."

With that, she strutted away, leaving him lying there.

* * *

Determined. That was one word Barbara Gordon would use to describe Bane. She may have only known him a few days, but in that time she had quickly learnt he was a ruthless man, relentless in pursuing whatever it was his twisted heart desired.

Every day, without fail, he would come. Him, and the two or three men he brought with him. Whether they were for his protection, or to intimidate her she couldn't be sure. Either way, they were pointless. Bane was strong enough to manage alone.

That fact had become abundantly clear the past few days… or so her aching bruised body reminded her. This final punch was just one of many she'd become accustomed to receiving.

Still, there was something about expecting pain that made it feel ten times worse. Or at least that had always been Barbara's experience with it, whether it be falling from a tree, tripping down a staircase or watching a fist flying towards your face.

The waiting… the expectation… the way your body freezes, helpless to do anything except brace in a frantic attempt to minimise the pain, the damage about to be inflicted.

That was how Barbara felt at that moment.

Her cry was strangled as she fell forward again, dropping to all fours as the strength left her body. No matter how strong she felt inside, her determination burning beneath her skin not to break - not to show weakness, it was futile. She was only human at the end of the day. No matter how much she had tried to suppress that fact these past months, but strip away her mask, her bravado and her confidence and this was what was left… a young woman. A fragile young woman caught in the middle of a war she wasn't strong enough to win alone.

She would have cried but knew it would be pointless. The tears that slid from her eyes were involuntary - her body betraying her of its own accord, unable to process the pain that now radiated over her whole body.

This was why he'd kept her alive. This was why he'd sent in a doctor to patch up her shoulder so she wouldn't bleed to death. Thankfully the bullet had passed cleanly through, and they'd stemmed the blood flow that would have otherwise killed her. This was why he had the guards shove a tray of food through the door twice a day… it wasn't compassion. It wasn't mercy.

It was pure selfish need.

Else he'd have made the food edible, or given her pain medication to handle her shoulder and sides. Instead, he left her like this lingering on the bridge between life and death, agony and unconsciousness.

She lay on the cold ground. The sting of the stone beneath her cheek was almost welcome against her sweat coated brow. True, she was shaking anyway from the pain so it was hard to tell whether her shivers were from the cold or her agony. Either way, she felt almost delirious, rooted only to this reality by the pain that kept stabbing her sharply as a reminder.

She lay there, groaning through gritted teeth as she tried to swallow her pain from where his fist had struck her chest. But the impact was enough that she knew it wouldn't be so easy to hide this time, to remain blank-faced.

"You want me to break," she choked, "to give into the darkness that plagues your soul? Well, good luck but it isn't going to work, Bane."

"But it already is."

"Is it?" she giggled wickedly, staring up at him with more malice than she'd ever felt for another human being in her entire life. How easy it would be to shoot him right then… to stab him, had the opportunity arisen. Screw being moral. Screw everything that had brought her to this point. Maybe the Bats had it wrong after all?

Sometimes fire needed to be put out, rather than contained.

Bane evidently agreed with that philosophy, slowly eroding her soul. Every strike, every snipe, every sneer… he was breaking her beyond recognition for what he wanted, and when he was done he would have no further use for her.

"I'd believe so, Miss Gordon," he chuckled darkly, dropping down to a crouch. His eyes found hers, as he gripped the back of her hair and hauled her face up towards his. Even with his mask, she could see the grin beneath. "You've done admirably, survived longer than I suspect most of my men would… they lack the fire that's within your soul, but it won't be enough. Not in the end. You will break just as any other would -whether it be tomorrow, the day after or even a week from now. You are nothing but a fragile, weak, excuse of a leader… a beacon of hope for the weak and the corrupt."

"I am not."

"You are," he chided condescendingly. "And what's worse is you know it yourself. Deep down. You hear the voice calling to you, to surrender… to save yourself, unlike Batman. He too was weak - so I broke him. I snapped him directly in half. Do I need to do the same to you, Miss Gordon?"

He released her head, letting her drop to the floor with a sickening thud.

The scream was harrowing as it ricocheted off the walls and presumably down the corridor beyond. A sick reminder to everyone else trapped down here of the fate that most likely awaited them once Bane tired of them.

"Tell me where your father is."

Barbara shook her head. "No… You want me to save myself, to surrender - to even want to hate you so badly I could kill you."

"And you don't?" There was something mocking, yet inquisitive as he knelt before her. His hands reached into the folds of his coat, yet Barbara didn't flinch. Instead, she watched with perfect eye contact as he removed what she realised was a knife. The metal glimmered in the chemical glow of the lights overhead.

"The Batman has lived in darkness, fought from the shadows for the light."

"And you think me so different?" Bane enquired, laying the knife down just out of her reach. It was either a taunt or an invitation. Barbara hadn't the first clue which it was.

"I know you are."

It was waiting for her… baiting her… doing exactly what Bane wanted her to do.

"Then what are you waiting for? Go on," he urged, spreading his arms open wide in a clear target for her. "You know you want to. End this suffering, Miss Gordon. Show me the killer inside of you."

Barbara Gordon had never been closer to giving in, in her whole life. The girl who had always had such a clear moral compass, such set opinions and yet, right then… she'd have set them all ablaze to watch Bane suffer. No matter the fact she knew it would play right into his hands… make her as bad as he to even try.

A fierce growl filled her throat as she reached for the knife, blinking back the tears of agonised frustration that threatened to flood out for the world to see. She could end this… right now.

She held the hilt in her hands but turned sharply. Instead, she twisted it around, positioning the point directly over her heart.

"I'll do it," she hissed resolutely.

She was Barbara Gordon. Batgirl. She didn't cower no matter what. That was the truth of who she was and if Bane wanted to see that then she had no issue reminding him just who exactly he was messing with.

It would take more than this cage to hold her.

"Every time, Miss Gordon. Every time," Bane laughed, eyes wide with excitement. It was as if he couldn't believe what he was witnessing. "You never fail to astound me with something new, something unexpected from the great commissioner's daughter."

'Exactly," she hissed, watching as the men surrounding her seemed to edge closer. Poised, all of them, as if waiting for her to slip up. "You knew who I was and yet you still underestimated me. Being the commissioner's daughter makes me strong, not weak."

"Evidently."

"So don't you ever forget who I am… who I really am, and it's not like you. I'm no killer… no monster."

Bane sighed. "Which is why we shall never agree, Miss Gordon. What a shame."

He nodded in some sort of signal. There was a resulting burst of pain in the back of Barbara's head.

Then she knew nothing but darkness.

* * *

Needless to say, Diane was merely glad to just be out of the safe house.

It had been hellish enough between the three of them, all in one giant spiral of worry. Of course, Blake was the worst, blaming himself over and over again for what had happened. Gordon came a close second, with his incessant pacing, and desperation to escape the apartment to start looking for his absent daughter. Diane had threatened to handcuff them to the radiator more than once in the past few days.

Who knew babysitting could be so hard?

Nevertheless, she'd soldiered on, knowing it was exactly what Barbara would want - what she would do had their situations been reversed. Just because her friend wasn't physically next to her to badger her didn't mean Diane was about to let her down anytime soon.

So, every day since, she had got up. She had carried on, both during the day and during the night. All the while she had been desperately seeking for answers, for a solution to this shit hole of a situation she had found herself in.

That was why she was here even if she knew this was dangerous. Sure, they'd taken single patrol routes before and weren't exactly joined at the hip, but running around Gotham these past nights alone… her head hadn't exactly been in the right place. If she'd been thinking straight she would have realised that and probably talked herself out of this one woman crusade. But she hadn't.

She was anxious. She was angry - and worst of all, she was determined. She would do whatever it took to not only remind Bane that there was more than one brave soul in this town but also to find where on earth he was keeping Barbara.

It was why she was here at this late hour, standing in the last place she wanted to be. The back alleyways of Gotham never got any prettier, even when covered in muddied snow. Still, she had faith and so far that had proved to have worked in her favour. Diane just prayed tonight wasn't the night the world decided to prove her wrong… again.

As if sensing her doubts, fate decided that was the moment to provide the answer and put her out of her misery. A faint clack of heels on concrete was the first signal she was no longer alone.

Diane glanced up. A smile flickered on her lips. Apparently, she wasn't as wrong as she'd feared she'd be. Gotham still had some faith left to spare.

"Nice evening for a tete a tete, don't you agree?"

"Perhaps," Diane smirked, turning her attention fully towards her guest. "Then again, I've learnt we can't be too picky these days about location - as much as I wish this was happening in some nice restaurant somewhere, with a good glass of wine."

Selina Kyle couldn't help but honestly laugh at that, clutching her fur coat tighter around her slender body. "Now you're talking," she purred. "God what I'd do for some wine right now. That or a decent meal that didn't come out of a can."

"Don't - if I even think about it I may cry," Diane scoffed, pleased to know some experiences were universal. For all her posturing, Selina Kyle was a human just like the rest of them. Perhaps that was what prompted her to ask, "how you been?"

"Busy. You?"

"It's… it's not been our best week." That felt like the understatement of the year, still, Diane did her best to keep a semblance of a smile on her face as she said it.

"So I heard." There was genuine compassion in Selina's tone as she smiled at the other woman, something resembling pity filling her eyes as she stepped closer towards her. "Bane didn't strike me as the devious type but clearly we were wrong about him."

"Is that why you called me here?"

"Well, it wasn't so we could discuss hair and makeup tips," Selina sniped, shaking her head. Still, Diane could see the jibe was made with no other intention than trying to retain a semblance of normalcy between the pair of them. Selina had never struck her as the type to offer her a hug instead. Apparently, sarcasm was her brand of comfort. "Come on, I thought you had some brains blondie. Or was that all Red's job? She seemed like the leader out of the pair of you."

Diane rolled her eyes. "What do you want Selina? I have better things to do than stand here, freezing my ass off so we can play cat fight. You called me here, so talk."

Selina shrugged. Well, who was she to deny the woman what she wanted to know? It was why she turned and stated simply, "I know where she is."

Diane blinked. She didn't think her jaw could have dropped any lower. "Barbara?"

Selina rolled her eyes. "Shut your mouth before you catch flies. Who else would I be talking about?"

"Where is she?"

"I asked around when I started hearing whispers of what was going on," Selina explained quietly, glancing around as if afraid who may be listening to their conversation. Maybe that was why she pulled the girl closer towards her and further into the shadows. "I ended up hearing from a friend who knows someone working on the inside - he says they got her. She's being held in Bane's labyrinth inside city hall."

"Who's the friend?"

"Do you think I'd lie to you?" Selina snapped indignantly, narrowing her eyes at Diane's blunt tone. "I checked out the Intel myself. I want her free just as much as you do. I thought I made it clear last time I'm not the gushy type, but I admire you both and what you're doing."

The look Diane gave her was enough of a warning. Still, it wasn't as if she needed one. Selina had no reason to lie - she had no reason to even help these people except a found sense of respect.

Diane paused for another long minute, clutching her batons tighter in her grip as she stared Selina down. "You mean it? … she's at City Hall?"

"Yes," Selina sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "I told you. That's where Bane and his freaks are holed up. He keeps his prisoners in the offices and closets downstairs until they can be tried by his freak court. If your friend was taken by him, that's where she'll be - if she hasn't been tried already."

"She hasn't. We'd know."

"Well, you happen to be right about that." Selina paused, tilting her head. "Last I heard, the rumour is he's got a red-headed girl locked away. High importance apparently… has men guarding her at all times, except for when he's talking to her himself."

Diane gasped sharply, trying and failing not to wince. She knew Bane would be using Barbara for information, but the thought of what he could be doing to her…

"You happen to know exactly where she is? Specifics or anything else useful?"

"I've told you what I know," Selina growled, suddenly defensive. She took a step back and prepared to melt back into the shadows from whence she had come. "I don't want any more trouble. She's in City Hall, locked up in the old basement. It's up to you to find her or whatever. You're the vigilante hero wannabe."

"Says someone who's been doing a lot of her own hero vigilante crap recently," Diane shot back with a smirk but knew better than to press. She had what she'd come for. That was enough for tonight. She needed to get back and share the news as quickly as possible with the others and figure out what the hell they did next. "Thanks for telling me this. I appreciate it."

"Just save her, ok?" The earnest tone actually shocked Diane as she froze, looking back at the woman before her with a new understanding in her eyes. There, for once, was genuine honesty - a vulnerability even, exposed for her to see. The cat may have had claws, but beneath was a woman with a heart like any other. "Don't let Bane win by crushing one more woman who has the guts to say no to his ugly face."

Diane was already one step ahead.


	22. Chapter 21

_**Here it is, as promised! Thank you, as always, for all your lovely reviews and for choosing to read this. On a completely different note - has anybody else become addicted to Titans on Netflix? I will love Joseph Gordon Levitt till the day I die, but Brenton Thwaites may have just snuck his way into first place as my Dick Grayson / Robin ...**_

 _ **Thesilentmage x**_

* * *

Barbara liked to think she deserved to live. It was why she found being where she was so hard. Every time she finally made progress in her life, something messed it up - and it always seemed to be related to this: Gotham and men with giant egos.

She was lying on her side, her ribs aching, her heartbeat ever so loud in her ears. Slowly, she opened her eyes and sat back up again against the cold brick wall.

The reality of it registered dully but the pain sent it all crashing back. Barbara groaned weakly, clutching her head, as her temper flared again. She couldn't do it. She couldn't stay here, waiting for what was left of the good guys to come to save her. She had to leave.

Her only problem was the fact that the door was locked, the key nowhere in sight, and her only available resources were her own battered body. Freaking fantastic.

When this was over, and it would be over soon, she was going to beat every last thug out there within an inch of their life for this. Starting with the smug bastard outside her cell, and saving Bane for last. She wanted to make their suffering as long, and slow as possible.

In the meantime, there was little Barbara could actually do except wait, stare at the wall opposite and continue to hum the same damn song she'd had in her head the past few days. Maybe it was just irony, but there seemed something oddly poetic about having the lyrics to 'what's up' by 4 Non Blondes in her head.

It had always been one of her favourites, but something about the lyrics seemed oddly apt right then.

A shadow shifted slightly, catching her attention. Barbara automatically fell silent as she turned, braced to defend herself but it was just a guard, looming on the other side of her door.

A faint clicking noise caught her attention as the door eventually swung open.

She didn't know whether it was a relief or not. If a guard was here then it was either going to be for a good reason or a shitty one - she knew which she'd put her money on right then. The way he approached so nervously, reaching for the gun on his hip, only made her more nervous.

"What do you want?" she snarled. The ice in her voice was deadly.

"Bane wants ya."

"And?" Barbara hissed, trying to crawl away from the man as he approached but it was useless. She could hardly do anything as he snatched her arm tightly, and hauled her to her feet.

"Let's go," he snapped, dragging her roughly out of the cell and into the hall. The ache from the gunpoint being shoved into the small of her back only made Barbara's blood boil.

Coward.

"Do you really need that thing?" She couldn't help but tease him as he dragged her out into the hall. "Look at me - do I look like I'm about to take you down?"

The wary look the guard shot her was an odd comfort. So he was scared of her?

Good. He should be.

Ok. Escaping now wasn't a great plan. No, scratch that, it was a shit plan. She knew it. Even she and Diane hadn't had a plan as bad as this one. This had to be a new record of idiocy even for her.

But she didn't have a choice: she was desperate. She couldn't stay here, when she knew that it would only end in her death, and most likely the death of those she loved most in the world… They were her motivation here, as well as the pure horror she felt inside at being trapped in this shit hole with these people.

She was getting out of here. No one could stop her.

She could hardly breathe, letting the man get close enough before she struck. She waited till they rounded the corner and with that, she shot her hand out and grabbed his wrist. She twisted it back, and snapped, pulling the man down and reaching with her other hand for the key on his belt. The man's cry filled the air, as he dropped, clutching his wrist, smacking his head against the wall.

Yes.

He didn't move.

Barbara had to seize her moment of victory, especially as she knew the others had to have heard that.

She crouched down as more footsteps approached, and then leapt in one fluid movement. Her legs, although weak, and in pain from multiple injuries, locked around the nearest head, her teeth bared.

She was not prey any longer - that much she had decided as she eased up to that door. Barbara Gordon was a wolf.

He screamed, but it was almost not a human sound. When he tried to tear her off, she arched out of his reach, her spine curving gracefully.

She dropped down, screaming internally at the pain in caused her, but she didn't stop, ignoring her exhaustion as she fought the rest.

She wouldn't let them take her. She'd be free. She was going to get home.

With that, she took off, bolting for her life down the hallway and up the stairs to the main floors above.

Her hands were trembling terribly as she inserted the key into the lock and twisted. Luckily a click followed immediately, letting her know she was safe to proceed as she ripped open the door and bolted down the corridor, feeling the adrenaline spiking in her system as she knew exactly where she was heading.

The prison corridor.

Barbara had been dragged through here on her way into this hell hole, she may have been blindfolded at the time but the sight of it was as just as harrowing as she'd imagined it to be.

The corridor was endless. Shit, this wasn't going to be easy. How on earth was she supposed to find him in here?

"Dean?" she began tentatively, edging past the first few rooms. "Dean? It's Barbara. You in here?"

Multiple moans and pleas began to fill the air, an endless chorus down the corridor of trapped souls. The agony in her heart was overwhelming as she fought the urge to start opening each and every cell. Leaving these innocent people here was a death sentence but she had to keep moving.

Dean was the reason she was down here in the first place. He was just a kid, one of the many innocents dragged into this battle. What's more, he was her friend. She'd known him long enough to know there was no way on earth she could leave him to this fate.

If he was even still here, that was. For all, she knew he was dead already, having faced the justice Bane so fondly spoke of.

Barbara could only pray she wasn't too late - and that this didn't get her killed.

"DEAN!" she bellowed again, jogging further into the darkness. "Where are you?"

"BARBARA? … Babs! Babs!"

The cry was familiar. It sent waves of relief crashing through her as Barbara sprinted back towards the voice coming from behind her.

With a curse she thrust the keys into the lock of the door, hastily finding the right one to release him.

"Dean?" she barked, wrenching the door open. The startled boy staring back at her made her heart soar. Sure, he looked like shit as she did, bruised, tired and bleeding. Still, he was alive and in one piece. That was enough for now. "It's time to go."

He blinked but was on his feet without another word. "What are you… how?"

"No time for questions," she barked with a lot more authority than she knew she actually had. "Ask me when we get out of here kid."

"You got it, boss. What's the plan?"

"Working on it," she confessed sheepishly, looking around the corridor with an analytical gaze. "Wait," she choked, stopping suddenly and turning to the cell beside her. "First we got to do something."

The look Dean shot her was of complete disbelief. "Barbara?" he hissed. "We don't have time. We gotta go. We can't help them."

"Yes, we can. There is always time," she countered viciously, "even one life is worth the risk. It's one more life Bane won't be able to take."

Dean looked unhappy but he wisely chose not to say anything else. Instead, he turned and began watching the corridor nervously.

Barbara took that as her cue.

"Here," she called wrenching open the door and looking at the bewildered group of people staring back at her from within. She wasted no time as she hurled the keys in her hand to the woman nearest, who caught them in her trembling hands. "Take these and open one cell. Pass them to the people inside and tell them to do the same and then run."

The instructions were simple. Hopefully, they would be enough. Hopefully, she could save a handful of lives here.

"Thank you," the woman managed to weep, scrambling to her feet.

Barbara didn't say anything. She merely swallowed the urge to stay as she turned back to Dean and began to hurry back towards the door ahead.

"Don't stop," Barbara ordered as Dean stumbled to keep up with her sudden change of pace. "If I go down, you run."

That was a choice that Barbara did not need to debate. That did not frighten her. Not for a heartbeat.

They ran.

Every step felt too slow in Barbara's mind. Trying to escape this labyrinth was impossible, and trying to do it undetected was even worse.

Of course, she was never going to tell Dean that. No, instead she kept running, firing glances at him occasionally to ensure he was keeping up. She was not leaving him behind, damn it, even if he was barely keeping pace.

"Stop!" she hissed, skidding back down the corridor to the door nearest.

She knew what room this was. One of the men outside her cell had told her as much as he'd taunted her nights ago.

The bomb.

Anything related to his precious bomb Bane kept locked away somewhere secure. If Bane had truly kept that kind of information down here, then the only solitary room, with a thick heavy bolt on the outside, was probably her best bet.

As ridiculous as it sounded, the idea she could make this count… make all the days she had spent writhing in this hell worth something… that she could hurt Bane even just a fraction of the amount he had her…

That was motive enough, regardless of what good it would do for the others outside of this prison. It was why she hurried forward, cursing as her body tried to haul the rusted bolt aside.

Thankfully, a whine told her she'd been successful and the door suddenly sprung open. Dean took his cue and helped to hold it open for her so that she could slip inside.

Once over the threshold, her eyes took a moment to adjust to the gloomy interior. Filing cabinets and desks aplenty were scattered amongst the contents of the room, signalling to her as her first targets.

It had to be in there somewhere. She knew it in her bones.

Frantically she began hurling papers aside and scanning the desk and drawers for plans, data or schematics of any kind. She had heard the guards mention numerous times that Bane kept everything locked in the empty upper offices.

Was it such a surprise she chose to believe them? That maybe she was desperate enough to?

Barbara knew she probably looked possessed as she tossed papers aside and dug for whatever it was she thought she would find in here. God. She felt like she was. She almost didn't recognise this mad woman in front of her, even if she knew it was her.

Then again… there was a method in the madness.

"Fuck yes!"

Barbara's cheer filled the empty room as she saw it lying there.

She didn't hesitate, snatching the papers off the desk and cramming them into her coat. If she was making it out of here, she was not leaving without them - especially when they had the words WAYNE ENTERPRISES stamped across the top.

At least this way her captivity had been productive in some way or another…

"Can we go now?" Dean whined sharply, loitering in the doorway. The way his eyes kept checking side to side told her he was more than a little eager to get the hell out of there.

"We're going," she assured him. "I got what I came for."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"I just didn't know you wanted to stop for souvenirs."

"Oh ssh," Barbara smirked, rolling her eyes as she pushed the boy ahead of her and kicked the door shut behind them. That ought to cover their trail for a while, or so she hoped as they ran for all they were worth. She didn't dare stop and look back.

Good thing too as they turned the corner and froze.

Their pathway was no longer clear. True, the corridor opened up into a large atrium that had clearly once been home to numerous desks and workers. A large glass dome arched in the ceiling overhead, mirroring the circular shape of the room below, divided by several balconies that ran along the perimeter.

Sunlight poured down below, illuminating the space clearly. All the books cases… the books… the desks… Debris was all that remained - that and the group of armed men loitering in the centre of it all.

They didn't have time to think. They didn't even have time to process. All Barbara knew was one moment she was looking at Dean, the next she had shoved him out the way and turned her sights back to their assailants.

She watched Dean skid his way behind the safety of the nearest pillar. That was her cue.

"Stay down!" she cried.

She lashed out, a neat series of strikes sent the men nearest staggering. Her weary limbs screamed in protest as she fought, all but somersaulting over the guard nearest. She then dropped to the floor, skidding behind the edge of a desk as the bullets began to spray through the air.

"So much for needing me alive," she cursed, eyes searching for the shooters.

Unfortunately, it was easier said than done. The numerous floors and pillars acted as good hiding places. What was shielding them was also the only thing shielding her.

"Barbara-"

"Dean! Stay back!"

She knew it went without saying, but she knew that kid better than most and she knew what he could do when his temper got the better of him. He was like her: a person of impulse, of action. Right now they only needed one loose cannon, and Barbara was not about to let Dean get himself killed for no reason. Too many lives had been lost in this pointless war for that to happen.

The bullets stopped.

Barbara held her breath.

"We're growing bored of this game of cat and mouse," one of the men cried, his voice echoing through the space. From the sounds of it, he was above her on the balcony that ran around the top of the desk space. "Bane is waiting for us to retrieve you."

Barbara snorted loudly enough for them to hear. "I'm shocked he could even muster the strength to order you about to come to fetch us— he seems to need an army of imbeciles to do most of the work for him, and a bomb to actually make people listen."

A curse filled the air in reply. They were taunting her. Trying to scare her. Trying to make her slip up.

If only they'd known better than to cross Barbara Gordon.

"He's gonna make you pay, bitch!" one bellowed mockingly. "If you thought you had it bad before he's gonna be really mad after this. You're in for a world of pain!"

The words trickled off Barbara like rain off an umbrella. Her concern was for the boy crouched a few feet away from her.

"Run toward the light. Towards the fire exit up those stairs," Barbara hissed across to Dean. He peered around his pillar. "I'll hold them off."

"No."

"Don't even bother trying to be noble or any of that shit, if that's what you're whispering about," one of the men croaked from behind them in the darkness. "We'll catch you both anyway."

They didn't have a plan for this, and Barbara knew it. With every second that passed, and every footstep that crept closer.

"Run," she breathed. "Please."

Dean hesitated.

"Please," she begged him, her voice breaking in desperation.

Dean squeezed her hand once. Between one breath and the next, he bolted to the side and out towards the light of the staircase on the other side of the atrium.

"What-?" one of them snapped, but Barbara struck.

"Here I am assholes!" she bellowed, leaping up from behind the pillar and vaulting over an overturned desk as a makeshift shield. "Come and get me!"

Footsteps rang out as bullets once more rained through the air, but at least Barbara knew Dean was safe.

Now she could get to work.

It was time for Batgirl to make an appearance.

* * *

Fists flew.

Her body leapt.

Barbara flipped, ducked and dodged like she never had before.

With a sharp cry, she threw the latest assailants gun upwards, forcing his well aimed shot into the ceiling and not into her side as he had previously been attempting to.

The glass that rained down on them was enough of a distraction for Barbara to slam his head into the nearest desk and hurl his body into the path of another assailant.

There was a fluidity, a grace to her movements. It was like that feeling you get watching a gymnast performing at the Olympics - the sheer awe, the disbelief at the speed, the strength, the precision. It was more than any of these men had clearly bargained for.

Still, Barbara knew she was operating at half her usual abilities. Her injuries may have been masked by the sudden surge of adrenaline in her system, but they sure as hell weren't forgotten. Not as she finally figured her way out of here.

Every bone in her body screamed in pain as she landed her forward somersault, slamming her side into one of the stacks. Then again. Again.

She slammed it with all her might until it teetered and fell, collapsing onto the one beside it. And the next. And the next.

The bookcases began to fall around her, blocking the way Dean had gone. Blocking the way she was now headed behind her.

Wood groaned and snapped, books thudded on stone. Her very own barricade, and dear god she prayed it bought her enough time for this to work.

She didn't hesitate as she tore down the corridor and up the final stairs towards where Dean was waiting, rattling the fire door open.

The cold air was almost instantaneous as Barbara burst out the door and into the abandoned street behind the building. Dean was hot on her heels.

The two of them continued to sprint for all they were worth, not even glancing back as they left behind the sound of bullets and screaming. Instead, they ran across the road and immediately swerved down the alleyway to the side.

Wasting no time, they hopped up onto the railings and pulled themselves over to the street on the other side. Hopefully, this would lose their pursuers.

Thankfully, this was one of those times where Barbara was almost grateful for all those years of gymnastics. Grabbing the bars in her hands, and hauling herself up wasn't that hard, and she swung her legs up, resting over the bar tops, as she eyed the drop on the other side into the dark. She took a small breath, and dropped herself, landing in a neat crouch, rolling to absorb the impact that would otherwise hurt her legs. In a mere instant, she was back up on her feet.

She glanced back at Dean and looked back to the darkened network of alleys and tunnels that made up lower Gotham.

On and on they ran, winding down streets and alleys. They kept running until Barbara couldn't any more. Her legs gave out beneath her and the world began to tilt as she hit the ground. All the adrenaline in her body had worn off, leaving her as weak as she had been in the cell earlier.

The last thing she saw was the man staring at her down the street… a man that made her heart skip a beat…

* * *

John rushed forward. He dropped to his knees as he caught her in his arms.

Barbara wasn't coherent, to say the least, lying like a dead weight in his arms. There was no major injury on her, but it was almost impossible to tell due to the sheer amount of blood on her, and her clothes. Her body was battered, cut, and bruised, and her hair was matted in several places by dried blood, deepening the shades of red.

Barbara hardly heard the gunfire, whimpering as her eyelids fluttered. However, it was almost as if she knew whose arms she was in, by the way she seemed to lean into his embrace.

"John," she choked.

"I've got you, Babs," he hushed, hauling her into his arms as he turned to get the hell out of there. "I'm right here. You're ok. You made it…"

"The bomb…" she choked, so quietly John almost missed it. "I… I got it… The plans…"

"What?"

"I got the plans…" her head began to droop, eyes closing as her hand lay against her ruined coat pocket.

"Barbara! Stay with me! Come on!"

It did no good. She was dead to the world, and unless they got out of there, they soon really would be.


	23. Chapter 22

**_Ahhh. So, I'm super hyped to announce a friend of mine sent me an amazing mood board for this story which you can check out here: post/185451980859/oh-my-god-my-lovely-friend-who-is-an-angel_**

 ** _You can also come to say hi via my Tumblr whilst you're there. Anyway, hope you're all having a great day. Thanks as always for your reviews and messages. It means the world... so, here you are. Did someone ask for more angsty fluff ;)_**

 ** _Thesilentmage x_**

* * *

John Blake had always been a man of details. Sure, he knew he could be impulsive. He knew his hotheadedness could be his downfall. Yet, where possible, he liked to be a man with a plan - as cheesy a notion as that was.

It was why he had been going practically insane the last few days since Barbara disappeared. He hated not knowing. He hated being idle. Worse than that, he hated the fact that none of them had a plan… they were simply existing in a bewildered daze.

Thank God the world had deemed it fit to finally throw them a bone that fateful night when Diane returned from patrol. The grin on her face as she all but tumbled her way into the apartment told him something had changed.

Now here they were, squatting behind the edge of an alleyway, observing the possible patrols still in the area. It was all they'd done for the past 24 hours, preparing to finally make their assault on City Hall and get Barbara back where she belonged.

Of course, this was Gotham though. All their planning and preparation had gone to hell in a handbasket when, as they approached the perimeter of Bane's territory Barbara Gordon herself appeared.

It had, however, been a sheer fucking coincidence that as they had prepared their assault, their target had come running straight into their arms. How Barbara had managed to get free was bewildering to even consider, yet somehow she was.

The fact Dean accompanied her, alive and well, was nothing short of a miracle. Who was he to question it?

Now though, he had bigger things to worry about - like getting them the hell out of here and away from the men that had clearly pursued them. As always, that was easier said than done.

John had run to Barbara's side, scooping her up off the tarmac. Dean had continued running straight into the waiting arms of Diane.

He cradled Barbara to his chest, hoisting her into his arms and backing down the alleyway. His expression said it all. "Move!"

The others didn't need telling twice. The sound of footsteps approaching only encouraged them further.

Diane had grabbed Dean by the arm, hauling him down the street as fast as she could manage. John had tried to follow. That was easier said than done considering the fact he had Barbara clutched in his arms. It was also easier said than done considering the men that appeared at the end of the alleyway, opening fire directly towards them.

The bullets sprayed through the air.

They were trapped. John realised it with startling horror. There was no way back to the rest of the group. The way Diane's face fell said she knew it too as she and Dean paused on the other side of the street, the other side of the stream of bullets hurtling between them.

Her curse echoed across the street, audible over the crack of gunfire. "Go!"

And so he had. No matter how their tempers often clashed, John Blake trusted Diane Lance. He'd seen enough from her these past weeks, let alone months to respect her suggestion - or in this case, command. He knew it himself: they were trapped. Escape was the only option right now, and despite how his gut churned at the thought of splitting their group into teams, he knew it was the one and only right call.

So, he'd turned. He'd shot Dean and Diane one last encouraging nod of acknowledgement, and he'd run.

And he'd run.

And he'd run, without stopping to ever look back for even a moment.

Now, he didn't even know where they were. If the others were as smart as he knew them to be, they'd have cleared out by now rather than risk capture. They had Barbara back safe and sound. They knew he'd make it back to them as soon as he could… if he made it out of here.

With a curse, he staggered back down the alley and burst back down the street. He'd lived in Gotham long enough to know it by heart, and that was what he counted on as he ducked and dodged to lose his pursuers.

His heart had felt as if it were going to burst as he cradled his precious bundle tightly. He had run as fast as he could, even if it had felt like an aeon before they were far enough away to count themselves as safe.

He'd feel even more so if there was a way he could get them both back to the safe house. However, as he glanced up at the darkening sky it became clear that would not be tonight. It would be suicidal to try and make it across town now, especially with Barbara in her current condition.

There was one place he knew he could count on being safe. It was nearby and that made it the ideal candidate.

* * *

It was officially pitch black when they reached the safety of the back entrance of St Swithin's, one John Blake was more than familiar using to sneak in and out of the building after curfew. It had been even longer till he had calmed down enough to actually surrender Barbara out of his grip.

Not even for all the fussing Father Reilly bestowed upon them as he saw the pair of them, stood helplessly outside his office. Not even as he bundled them into the long-abandoned attic quarters, out of sight, and tried to decide where to even start.

John finally had arranged her amongst the sheets and pillows, trying to make her as comfortable and warm as possible.

He hastily began to assess the damage as best he could, using the dim light of the candles to see what needed his attention most. There was only so much one could learn from Police training, a few first aid courses, and a lifetime living in the lower region of Gotham. Still, he would do his damned best to help.

To his credit, Father Reilly clearly wasn't going to leave till he had done the same. He'd been a veritable saint since the moment they'd arrived. Immediately, he had completed his own scavenger hunt, returning hastily to the room with one of their emergency first aid kits, as well as wrangling other miscellaneous supplies from wherever he could find them including food, blankets and candles plenty.

Together, he and John did their best to attend to the damage as best as they could. On one hand, they were stunned to see Bane had patched up the worst of the damage. On the other hand, their disbelief quickly morphed into relief. The rest was easier to handle - or so Father Reilly reassured John.

"After a lifetime raising boys, you learn how to handle almost anything. A few bruises, cuts and stitches become second nature."

John believed him, not only because he'd witnessed it first hand for himself but also because of the fact Father Reilly seemed so sure and calm at handling this situation. Together they worked, and thankfully a few hours later they had done enough to deem the situation as stable for now.

It was why Father Reilly left the pair of them to resume his duties with the unsuspecting boys below.

"I'll be back tomorrow when it's light," he'd murmured soothingly, patting the man's shoulder as he went. "You know where we are if you need any further assistance before then."

Blake had nodded, waiting for the door to lock shut behind him.

He hadn't moved, sat in his own private vigil. The irony was not lost on him at the change in their positions: when they had first met it had been Gordon who had been lying there, Barbara at his side.

How perfect she had looked that night, smiling at him whenever he appeared. It had made his heart skip a beat in a way it very rarely had. There was just something about her. Whether it was the genuine warmth in her emerald eyes or the way her lips quirked when she seemed lost in thought, or whether it was even the humour in her voice despite being in so bleak a place… John Blake had felt himself falter.

Had he been a braver man, and had she not been in so painful a situation, he may have asked her to coffee. He knew he definitely should have that night she joined him for a round of darts. That night only confirmed everything he had guessed about the mysterious Commissioner's kid. She was every bit as smart, as vibrant, and as genuine as he'd been told.

With a soft sigh, he reached over to the bowl of water that sat on the table beside them. He also picked up the soft cloth that had accompanied it. Methodically, he began to wash away the streaks of grime and blood that coated Barbara's face until he saw the woman he recognised beneath… Barbara.

His Barbara.

The thought sent a sharp stab of pain into his heart and he swallowed it down as best he could. Instead, he channelled his affection into his tender care, hand brushing through her hair as if willing her a peaceful sleep.

* * *

He hadn't realised he'd fallen asleep.

John opened his eyes wearily what felt like minutes later, but he knew was more likely hours considering the sluggish weight of his eyelids. That, and his neck was already beginning to ache from the uncomfortable position it had been forced into, laying against the edge of the mattress.

It was then that he realised what had woken him.

The sound of whimpering was deafening in the ear-splitting silence of the room. Almost as loud as the sound of Barbara tossing and turning where she lay, her fists thrashing against the sheets as if trying to protect herself from some invisible horror.

Instinctively John lurched forward from his chair, reaching out to try and soothe her.

His hand reached for hers, the other taking hold of her shoulder in an attempt to hold her still. That was easier said than done.

"Hey. Barbara… Babs," he said quietly, watching as her eyes fluttered open.

Barbara barely responded, looking at him with glassy eyes. She was disorientated, to say the least. None of it fitted right in her head. What... What was happening? Where was everyone? Bane? the guards? Dean?

Her heart rate was way too fast, and she gulped as she curled herself inwards.

"John?" she choked, feeling his hand holding her's.

"I got you. You're safe. You're here. We're safe." He managed a comforting smile, trying to calm her down, his tone suiting a wounded animal better than a twenty-one-year-old woman. However, it worked nonetheless.

"But… I'm safe?" she croaked, sounding almost desperate to believe him.

"Yes, Babs," he nodded, "you're safe. You're just dreaming."

She choked, tears in her eyes, as she clutched onto him in the darkness of the room. She didn't even care how pathetic she probably seemed, suddenly latching onto him and holding him as if her life depended on it. The cold terror in her heart was overwhelming as she tried to make sense of what was real and what wasn't.

"Please. I - I want to stay here. With you. Don't let them take me back there."

"I won't. I won't. I will never let you go back, it's alright. I want you to stay with me too. It's okay," John soothed, gently pulling her into his arms and cradling her against his chest.

Barbara just broke at that point, her tears overflowing, as her relief, and pain consumed her in a tidal wave. She held on to him for dear life, trying to block out the pain and fear in her mind.

She was home.

She had to believe it.

She was safe.

John had found her, and she was ok - because of him. He was here. Now. So was she. She could feel him and even smell him. It was proof. She wasn't dreaming.

Unfortunately, the realisation didn't transfer from her brain to her stomach. A sudden churning burned deep within and, with a gulp, Barbara broke free from his embrace. She didn't pause as she bolted towards the bathroom - just in time too.

Collapsing to her knees, Barbara gripped the edge of the toilet tightly as her stomach violently emptied itself. A shudder ran down her spine as she tried to control her breathing and failed, her body betraying her.

So consumed with the tears on her cheeks, she almost missed it a moment later as she felt the warm caress of fingers holding her hair back. Without even turning around she knew who it was.

"You don't need to watch this," she gasped shakily, feeling her cheeks burning in shame.

Great. Just what every girl wanted - a guy watching her puke her guts up. A mess was an understatement for how she must have looked in that particular moment.

"I know," came his soothing reply. His breath was warm against her cheek as he leant in close, letting her lean back against him for support. "Just relax… slow and steady breaths, Babs. Focus on my voice and where you are right now. You're here. Not there."

Another few shudders rattled her weak body as Barbara battled to tame her heartbeat, and her wild breathing.

The cold tiles began to sting against her bare legs as her focus returned. She became instantly aware of the darkness of the bathroom, and the off white decor of the walls. Every second of silence was deafening, but she welcomed it as she listened intently.

With that, eventually, the world returned to her leaving her feeling weak, but calm. Barbara clung to the toilet, spitting once, and reached up to flush. She watched the water swirl away entirely before she twisted her head to look at John.

"You're pretty good at this," she croaked, the words struggling to escape her burning throat.

"What can I say? I've been there myself, before. I know a thing or two about these kinds of nights."

"Really?"

He nodded slowly, reaching up to hand her one of the towels off the shelf beside them. She took it gratefully, using it to wipe the thin sheen of sweat that remained on her brow.

"When my father was killed … that triggered the first of them," John continued in a surprisingly measured tone. It appeared to work, even if Barbara could sense the pain beneath every word. Listening to his voice was enough to distract her, especially as she realised that this was probably the first time he had ever opened up to her in such a way without being provoked. "For nights on end I couldn't sleep, always waking up in the middle of a terror. I could see it over and over again, even felt the same fear and grief I did then… It really drove Father Reilly insane. He wanted to help me but this isn't the kind of thing that can be fixed with a long talk and good intentions."

Barbara didn't know what to say. The idea of him ever feeling like this, at such a young age… it broke her heart. No matter how dark her life had been, she had always had somebody there for her, whether it was her father, mother, Harvey Bullock, or even on the rare occasion, Bruce Wayne… Someone had always been there to make everything ok again. To keep her grounded. To remind her she wasn't alone and that there was always going to be someone next to her waiting to catch her if she fell.

"I'm sorry," Barbara whispered, knowing it wasn't even close to being enough.

"Don't be - it wasn't your fault. You couldn't have done anything," John immediately murmured. His tone was soft but honest.

"Still, no one should-"

"Hey, it's in the past now," he purred, silencing her hysteria before it could return.

In a rather tender gesture, his fingers rose upwards, gently running through her fiery locks. By the way Barbara tilted into the motion she clearly enjoyed it. In fact, had she been a cat, she was sure she'd have been purring.

"I survived, and look - I grew up, I got a great job, and now I've met you."

"You make that sound like a good thing," she chuckled weakly, smiling as she leant into his embrace.

"Because it is."

"Even now?"

"Especially now." His tone was resolute, even if he wore a smile as he said it. Those simple words were enough to ease the ache in Barbara's gut, even for a moment. "Friends look after each other, and that's what I'm doing. I'm not going anywhere."

"Speaking of that," Barbara murmured, her eyes finally seeming to take in her dimly lit surroundings. She didn't have to be a genius to recognise that this wasn't their apartment. "Where are we?"

"Somewhere safe," he replied simply. It was clear now was not the time for a long explanation. "We needed somewhere to lay low. Bane's guys gave a pretty good chase. We got separated from the others for now, but we'll be fine."

Her nod was the only sign she believed him. It was a testament to her exhaustion that she didn't choose to ask anything further. If there was something important she had faith John would have already told her. "What did work?"

"Huh?"

"What did work in the end?" she asked curiously. "What helped you get through it? The nightmares?"

John paused, smiling as he slid an arm around her, holding her close enough to feel the warmth through his shirt. He was grateful for the topic change. "Talking to someone else who knew what I was feeling, thinking… We've been through enough in our lives. I'd like to think I understand a little of what you're going through. I'm here if and when you're ready to tell me the rest."

The rest… that was a dark chapter. Did she even have the strength? Barbara flinched at the very thought.

"He wins," John continued venomously. "That bastard wins if you let him break you. If you fall apart. That's why you need help, people who care about you to put you back together when you need it the most."

"So, happen to know anyone free like that to chat to?" she chuckled weakly.

"Well, if you don't have a preference I'm free," John offered.

"I'd like that, thanks." The truth was she would. Very rarely had she ever had someone to confide in so honest and truthful a way before. Her father and she had never truly had that kind of relationship, as close as they were. There were some lines both of them kept in place, to protect themselves as much as each other. "I didn't say anything, you know?"

"What are you talking about?"

"To Bane," Barbara murmured weakly. "I didn't say anything about us, Diane or my Father and his plans… I didn't give him anything."

"I wish you had," John growled under his breath, holding her a little closer. "Or at least gave him something so he wouldn't have done this to you."

"John Blake, I am not a coward-"

"I never said you were," he soothed, regretting his honesty. It was why he was hasty to change the topic. "Do you think you can stand? Let's get you up off the floor before you freeze to death."

Barbara nodded slowly, willing her limbs to respond as she eased herself upright. If her hand failed to release John's then it was pure coincidence, or so she told herself as she noticed he didn't make any effort to pull it away for himself.

Instead, he tightened his grip, squeezing it affectionately as he guided her back through the darkened hallway and towards the bed, she had bolted from.

"Here we go," he breathed. "Easy does it."

Barbara shot him a warning look as she eased herself back onto the mattress. "John Blake, I'm not incapable of getting myself into bed. I'm not completely broken."

A warm laugh tore from his throat. "I don't doubt that," he purred again, his eyes never leaving hers. "What can I say? I'm just overprotective."

"I remember, you Mother hen," she teased, aware that her eyelids were drooping again. "You're worse than my Dad. I mean, what's actually wrong with me?"

"Other than the fact you were beaten senseless, you mean?"

"What injuries?" she asked, pleased to find she could roll her eyes without a bout of dizziness.

"Oh. Well, aside from the cut to your eye, there's facial bruising, a cracked cheekbone, extensive bruising, a broken rib, a gash on the back of your head that was slightly infected and a concussion," he rhymed it all off quickly and she knew that she wasn't the first person who had quizzed him about her injuries. "Oh, and the bullet wound in your shoulder I had to patch up."

"Is that all?" She gaped at him as he pulled her up gently to a sitting position so he could check her torso, fire bursting through her ribcage as he did so and making at cry out in pain.

"All?" he asked, askance. "It's fucking plenty to be going on with, and when your pain meds wear off you'll realise that."

"Huh?"

John shook his head. He had never been more grateful than when he had managed to find leftover prescription pain killers, tucked away in the first aid kit in the bathroom. "I managed to find some meds in the bathroom. Apparently, Father Reilly knows people who know people. Long story short they have connections to medical supplies vital to running a home for delinquent teenage boys."

"Father Reilly never ceases to amaze."

"That he does."

Barbara should have known better than to doubt the ever-resourceful preacher who had never been anything but resilient. He never seemed to waver, no matter the problem, the person or the hour. That was what had always made him so good at his job, and one of the most unlikely people to remain in Gotham…

Speaking of leaving, it was then Barbara felt the slight release in pressure as John began to pull his hand away.

"Wait," she suddenly gasped, hand reaching out to grab his. She sounded every bit as small and helpless as she felt in that moment, especially as she gazed up at him in the darkness. "Don't… don't go."

"What?"

"Please, just… don't go," she begged feebly, pulling him back towards her. To her surprise, he didn't fight her. Instead, he sank back down on the bed and sighed in the silence.

"It's ok, Babs. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere… you're safe."

Somehow the words coming from his lips sounded a thousand times more convincing than they had in her head. That and the way he leant back against the pillows, and wrapped her in his arms tightly, cradling her to his body was more soothing than Barbara could have hoped for.

She merely surrendered into the embrace and tried to savour the warmth radiating off of his chest. It just felt right.


	24. Chapter 23

_**Maybe it's the hellish heat here in England that inspired this, but things are about to get a little steamy in Gotham XD**_

 _ **Hey everyone. Here's a new chapter for you lovely human beings as a thank you for the outpouring of love, reviews, follows and reads this story has** **received** **since I posted it almost a year ago. Wow, time flies. Anyway, just a little heads up that things get a bit explicit in this chapter (gotta earn my M rating somehow** **hehe** ** _)_ so if that doesn't float your boat then stop reading when it says ****"Then don't," Barbara choked vulnerably. "I want you beside me every moment of every day we have, whether it be one** **or** **hundreds of thousands..."**_

 _ **If you then scroll to the bottom I'll put a small summary of what you missed. But for the rest of you, enjoy ;) I haven't ever written this kind of thing before so apologies if it sucks. It would be great to hear from you all regardless, even just to say hi as normal. Till next time-**_

 _ **Thesilentmage x**_

* * *

Playing patient was not one of Barbara's strengths. The fact she had been wrestled back into bed on four separate occasions in the past 24 hours did not speak well of her ability to follow orders, especially when they consisted of resting and lying there.

It also didn't help when she discovered exactly where they were. Being separated from the others, holed up in the attic of St. Swithin's boys home was not exactly an ideal situation in her eyes.

To John, her determination to try and make it back across the city, even though she could barely stand, was admirable but also completely insane. He may or may not have threatened to knock her out once or twice if that was what it took to ensure she stayed inside.

Barbara Gordon had clearly met her match: finally, someone was as stubborn as she was. It was probably why, for the fifth time in two days they were having the same argument.

"You shouldn't have risked them - the kids, the staff."

John sighed heavily, turning his attention away from the window he had been staring out of for the past five minutes. It was easier than looking at the furious bed-bound redhead who was glaring angrily at him. "They knew the risk. We didn't really have a choice, Barb. There was nowhere else for us to go, and you… the state you were in… we needed help."

"But here?" Barbara demanded, panic rising at the thought of the danger hovering not only over them but every innocent soul in this building too. "The risk alone is not worth it. That, and we're taking supplies they don't even have for themselves-"

"I didn't make the call lightly. It was the only call to be made."

"Really?"

"Yes," John protested, shaking his head and making his way back over towards her. "I didn't exactly have a lot of time to make another decision. I saved your life, so you really should just be thanking me instead of arguing with me - again."

"I saved myself - you just helped," Barbara protested, even if she knew her argument was weak. She would have died back in that alleyway had he not shown up. Dean too, probably. Her anger was misdirected considering she knew John was not to blame for this. Her frustration came at knowing she had allowed herself to end up in this position. Weak. Wounded. Trapped in a different prison. "And I already thanked you for being my white knight. No need to rub it in."

"And let this wonderful moment pass?" he teased. "Never. Go on, call me your white knight again."

"Dick."

"And don't you know it." The wink he sent her could have cured all ills. It certainly made her feel a hell of a lot lighter as she laughed, rolling her eyes at the idiot who was now perched on the edge of the mattress they'd been sharing for warmth as much as for the fact it was far comfier than the floor. "You trust me, ok? There's an escape route onto the roof, if we need it, and no one - save Father Reilly and a couple of nuns, know we're even here."

She knew he said it to quiet her fears. After all, they'd been through too much for John to fail her now. "If you say so."

"I do say so."

"Do the others know we're safe?"

John nodded again. He paused and reached into his coat pocket. It was then that he'd shown her the walkie talkie proudly. "I've been calling, updating them on your progress. You should really talk to your Dad now that you're up and coherent."

Barbara felt her chest constrict at the very thought of it. "I feel like I've missed so much, even if it has only been a week."

"A lot can happen in a week, especially in Gotham." Wasn't that just the truth? The expression on his face said he knew it just as much as she did. "Apparently people noticed you'd gone. They realised Batgirl had vanished and they weren't happy."

"Really?" Barbara couldn't even process it.

"Yep," John smiled softly. "Just when I thought people couldn't surprise me anymore and Gotham does this. It proves me wrong, proving people actually do have some good left in them. All over the city, they've been rising up… Bane won't have control of this city for much longer."

"And you wonder why I want to be out there right now."

"I get it, but don't worry. This city has enough protection for now… the world won't end because Barbara Gordon needs some time for herself. Speaking of, I'll give you some privacy," he whispered, hand grazing hers as he surrendered the device. "I'll just be down the hall if you need me."

"Thanks," was all Barbara could manage as she watched him stand and leave the room, true to his word. Now she was left with nothing but an ever-growing silence, full of fear and hesitation. Her dad… she hadn't heard his voice in so long… what did she even say to him? Did this thing even work?

Suddenly Barbara felt herself slipping back in time, to being a fifteen-year-old girl in this exact position: staring at the phone in her lap, wondering when she'd have the courage to pick it up and talk to her absent mother on the other end.

Just as she had then, Barbara gulped. She sat back against the rickety frame of the bed as if to steady herself and squeezed the button on the side of the walkie-talkie.

"Dad?" she croaked, clutching the device so hard her knuckles turned white from the strain. Her voice wavered as she held her breath, holding on for that first burst of static in reply. "It's me, Barbara… Can you hear me?"

It was mere seconds, but to Barbara, it felt like an eternity as she waited. Then she heard it: static as the receiver burst into life.

"Barbara? Oh, thank God." Her father's voice sounded so frail cracking over the frequency, yet there had never been so perfect a sound before in all of Barbara's life. It filled the lonely attic with a warmth Barbara hadn't realised she'd been craving. His voice was like safety, blanketing her weary body. "I've been so worried. Blake said you weren't even conscious."

Barbara smirked, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of it all. "I'm awake, and I'm fine… nothing a few painkillers and some rest won't cure. The one and only secret remedy of the Gordon's never fails."

"For headaches and long nights maybe," he grumbled in reply, "but not for damn bullet wounds, Barbara Joan Gordon."

"John Blake is a snitch."

"He's also the only thing keeping me sane over here," her father shot back swiftly, if not with a little humour lacing his otherwise weary tone.

It made Barbara's heart sink. She had been pretty tough on the poor guy since she'd woken up. Yet, he'd done more for her than anyone else ever had. "I know. I'm lucky to have him here. I don't know what would have happened if he hadn't shown up with Diane when he did."

"For that, let's count our blessings. I never thought… that Bane would take you as a hostage, I should have seen that coming. I should have been more careful, kept a closer eye on you-"

Barbara shook her head. "Dad. Stop that. Now." She didn't need to see her father in person to picture the agonised expression she knew he was wearing that exact moment. She also knew the agony he had been suffering on her behalf since the moment she'd disappeared into thin air. It was his worst nightmare come true. "It was no one's fault. He took me in broad daylight - there was no way to stop it or even guess he would dare something so obvious. It was a trap, and I fell for it. No one else."

Her father audibly gulped, lost in a burst of static as he gathered himself on the other end of the line. "What… What did he want with you?"

Barbara sighed, blocking the burst of images that flooded her mind. "He wanted to know about you, about the resistance… he wanted to know if you were working with the vigilantes, what your plans were, the location of your base etc… I didn't give him anything."

"I knew you wouldn't, you're as stubborn as me - as your mother. But by God, Babs, I wish you had," her father growled hoarsely. "I wish you saved yourself even a fraction of the pain he inflicted on you on my behalf. I wasn't worth it… not at the cost of you."

Barbara choked on the lump that surfaced in her throat. It had always been the two of them. They'd always been a team. That hadn't changed now, not even as the world burned around them. "I won't apologise, Dad, for doing what was right. It was what you, or John, or Harvey would have done had any of you been in my place. I heard the stories you told me time and time again of your days on the force - what you endured. This is my fight too."

"You're cut from the same cloth as me. You'll fight even when the whole world's against you, and no matter what it costs, as long as you believe in your heart that it's worth it."

"And I do."

"I know," he whispered, as resigned to that realisation, no matter how much it pained him to hear. "I love you, honey."

She wiped the tears from her cheeks roughly. "I love you too."

With that she sank back into the pillows, clutching the device to her chest as if she were afraid to let it go.

* * *

"So what is the plan?" Barbara sniped, crossing her arms. "Feed me chicken soup and watch crappy movies all day?"

John rolled his eyes. "You make that sound like a punishment. Most people want to do that stuff and lay about in bed all day."

"Most people aren't living in a war zone!"

"True. But I swear to god, Barbara Gordon-"

The use of her full name had been a mistake. He knew it by the way her eyes flashed dangerously. He thanked God he'd had the sense to remove anything sharp from the room before they'd had this argument.

"What I _need_ to be doing right now," Barbara hissed sharply, "is getting those plans to Lucius. I also need to tell my Dad about the operation Bane's running back there, not lie here like an invalid."

"If you could actually stand, I'd agree with that statement."

Barbara didn't need to see her body again to know he spoke the truth. Even with her blankets, the skin she could see on the bottom of her legs and her stomach was almost black in places, spotted with purple around the fleshier parts.

"You're in no condition to even leave this room, let alone go traipsing across Gotham," John replied firmly, staring her down in retaliation.

"So you're going to play jailer?"

"If I have to."

"Ugh!" she groaned, flopping back on to the bed despite the way it sent pain flaring through her side. "You are the actual worst, John Blake."

His chuckle told her he knew she didn't mean that. If anything, he actually looked amused by the whole thing, as if this was all some weird joke. In a way, it was: the two of them, trapped together, doomed to tear each other to shreds. The world was cruel in its irony sometimes.

"And you're just a picnic, Barbara Gordon," he purred a moment later, flopping on to the bed beside her. "Food can wait a while."

Barbara fought the urge to wipe that smug grin off his face by smothering him with one of the pillows beneath her head. "And what do you propose we do instead?"

"We could talk?"

"About what?" Barbara smirked. "Play 20 questions?"

"Maybe," he teased, rolling over so that his face was a mere few inches away from hers.

"How old are you?" she teased in return. "No one plays that game."

"I'm 25," he replied, grinning at the way that made her roll her eyes. "See, one question already. I knew even you'd be able to get the hang of this. Now it's my turn."

Barbara wanted to groan but knew it was futile. "Fine," she surrendered, knowing exactly how this was about to go. Once John had his mind made up about something, he was just about as stubborn as she was. The only way to get out of this was to simply give in and do as he wanted. After all, they were kind of stuck with each other for the foreseeable future. There was no escape other than to tell him whatever he wanted to know.

"Favourite place to visit?"

"Venice, in the winter," she replied instantly. Thankfully his question was easy enough. After all, it wasn't hard to answer as she thought back to the trip she and a friend had taken during their winter break a year ago. "You?"

"I'd like to visit South America - visit Machu Pichu, ride a llama."

Barbara snorted at that mental image, "Favourite ice cream?"

John barely paused as he considered the answer. "Baked Alaska. You?"

"Easy, Phish food," she replied. "Favourite Disney movie?"

John laughed. "Oh my god. Uh ok, Lion King."

"Hmmm," Barbara smirked, mulling his response over in her head. "Film about a kid who goes on a quest, after a troubled youth, to avenge his father and save his home… I can see why. On the nose, much?"

John rolled his eyes indignantly. "Maybe it's just because I like the music? Or the voice acting?"

Barbara blinked.

John sighed. "What's yours then?"

"Beauty and the beast."

"Oh ho - look who's talking now," he cackled, eyes wide mischievously. "Book worm girl who lives alone with her father ends up seeking adventure and saves a whole castle of people. Now, who's obvious?"

"I am not!" Barbara protested dangerously. "It's a fucking classic and you know it."

"You should have just gone for something more obvious like Mulan, Babs. Would have been more in keeping."

"Don't bring Mulan into this. It's also an amazing movie, you heathen," Barbara hissed, trying hard not to laugh as John thwacked her with the pillow behind him. "Hey! I'm already injured, thanks."

"Ok, ok. Truce!" John surrendered, choosing the wiser course of action. As it was he knew he'd be paying for that comment later. "Best date?"

Barbara paused at the shift in tone. This question was far more personal than she'd been expecting, although she didn't know why. They knew almost everything about one another. "I haven't been on that many for obvious reasons - my dad - but the best one was probably with my first girlfriend, Erica Vandemeer. She went to Gotham High with me. She basically ended up taking me for my first motorcycle ride around Gotham under the stars. I had never felt so free, or so alive, before that moment."

John paused, suddenly sitting up a little. Barbara could almost sense the question lingering on his lips at that moment as she suddenly realised they hadn't had this chat yet, not that it was that big of a deal. Not to her anyway. This was something she'd become more than used to a couple of years ago and it wasn't something she was ashamed of either. How could she be when it was a part of what made her her?

"Your Dad - the Police Commissioner of Gotham - let you on a motorbike?"

That was his first question about what she'd just told him? Barbara almost couldn't believe it as she exploded into laughter at the outrage in his voice. "Do you think he'd have let me go if he knew what we had planned? No. Of course, he didn't."

"He had no idea?" John snorted.

"None."

"And you're into girls?" he continued casually, looking almost embarrassed to be asking.

"Yeah," Barbara smiled warmly, trying to make this easier for both of them. "Well, guys and girls. I'm not so fussy about what's between peoples legs. Never have been."

"Oh." John paused as if mulling it over. A mere second later though, as if that slither of information had been filed away in his mind, he just relaxed back to how he was sat before. His eyes glistened and he took another sip of his beer. "Well… good. You get twice the choice then."

"That I do."

"And your Dad was cool with it? Not that I doubt he would have been. He's a good guy."

Barbara just nodded, smiling to herself at the pride and gratitude she felt at being able to confirm that.

"I was one of the lucky ones, to have an accepting father who didn't really care. He just wanted me to be happy, even if he hated having more people to worry about trying to date his daughter. But you never answered the question, John Blake. What was your best date?"

John chuckled sheepishly. "Oh, that one's easy - Jessica Samuels."

His tone and grin were enough to pique Barbara's interest. She rolled over, propping herself on her elbows as she peered at him eagerly. "Really? Why?"

"It may not have been a yacht club or anything fancy like that, but we ended up getting pizza at the state fair. I'd had a crush on her for months, always seeing her at the corner store where she worked part-time at weekends. We went on the Ferris wheel, and I may have ended up with food poisoning from some dodgy hotdogs, but it was definitely worth it considering that was the night I got my first kiss."

It was hard to deny the lingering sense of jealousy that brewed in her stomach at the thought, but Barbara let the conversation carry on anyway.

If either of them noticed the dark of night appearing, dampening the sunlight that pierced through the slats of the blinds, then neither said a word in protest. In fact, they were too busy sharing words about everything and anything they could think of as if suddenly a dam had broken and something between them had flooded through.

It was odd, to think Barbara had known this man for months now. She felt as if she knew him as well as herself. Yet, that day she felt as if she were seeing a whole new side of him that had previously been hidden. For once, it was just the two of them, alone. It was rare that they managed to steal moments like this. Clearly, they both were taking full advantage of it.

"Seriously? You prefer green jelly babies?"

"Yeah, why is that so weird?"

"Because it is," John teased, wide-eyed. "And I thought you had taste. I'm disappointed."

"Oh shut up," she smirked, rolling her eyes sarcastically at the devilishly handsome grin he was giving her. "But seriously… Thanks for distracting me - and tolerating me."

She had never been dependant on anybody before. She didn't know she'd even capable for it. Independence had always been one of her greatest skills. Hell, with a family like hers she needed it. Recently though, being around and being with John, she couldn't imagine surviving without him. He'd become the other half of her world. Right now, she knew she needed him more than ever.

There were a couple of seconds of silence as they both lay there, trying to figure out what to say or do. It just felt so weird. Eventually, Barbara turned, her eyes lifted to John and slowly she made her way forward to him. Almost instinctively she nestled against him, feeling him embrace her in his arms. She needed him right now and she wasn't afraid to show herself as vulnerable to him.

Barbara couldn't help but close her eyes. She could feel John's strong frame supporting her, and she relished in the fact she had it.

"Babs."

It was the sound of her name in his voice, so gentle yet careworn, that made her turn her head upwards to face him. He was staring at her now, looking pale and resigned and, oh, so tired. The relief that he was alive hit her like a freight train; she'd been holding it at bay for the past few hours, distracting herself with the myriad of practical concerns in the aftermath of the last week, but now— now that relief crashed over her in waves so staggering that she was nearly brought to her knees.

"We seem to like thinking we have backbones made of titanium, but really we wouldn't be much without each other. You made it out of there all by yourself, but you're not alone anymore," he muttered softly, slipping his hands around her waist gently. His head rose, moving from where it had been resting atop her head so that their faces not far from each other. He gazed at her porcelain face, illuminated by the soft moonlight. "Your eyes… they reflect… tiny little starlights..." he muttered quietly, staring into her glazed, glowing eyes.

Barbara blushed a little matching his gaze, by looking back into his own eyes. She couldn't quite place it but there was just something about them. It was almost as if they were communicating something to her. That, and she caught his lips, noticing how they always just curled a little at the edges when he was happy about something.

Maybe it was just the moonlight, who knew? But suddenly he just seemed so different in its shine. Also, she didn't say anything about the way he'd moved closer. Almost instinctively she'd done the same in return.

"Really?" she whispered gently.

He nodded subtly, not taking his eyes off hers. "They're beautiful," he muttered, helplessly leaning in ever so closer, but he quickly stopped.

It was as if they were back in that hallway, a week ago. Back then Barbara had let the moment slip through her fingers, unable to control the nerves that buzzed between them. Too much had happened since then, and she had had long enough to reflect on the errors of her past.

It merely had taken till then, surrounded once again by death and danger, for her to stop thinking, and to simply give in. Now, she wanted to express everything she had been keeping inside since the beginning.

"Kiss me," she whispered authoritatively. Her tone left little room for disagreement as she cupped his cheek and held him there. "John Blake, I know what you're thinking. I can read your face. Just stop thinking and … and kiss me."

With a soft smirk, he did what he should have done weeks ago as he kissed her with all the passion and affection he had for her.

Barbara felt herself melt into that moment, her lips pressed hungrily against his. She couldn't help it as her heart swelled and she felt herself tremble in delight.

"So…" he whispered.

"So," Barbara replied, trying not to giggle under her breath. "That happened."

"It did… and?"

"And," she smirked, cupping his cheeks as she pulled him back towards her, stealing one more tender kiss. "I was wondering when we'd finally do that."

It was as if she had lit a flame beneath him. His entire being seemed alight with joy and excitement. As if her kiss had unleashed some new, lovestruck being. It made her heart soar in equal excitement, and relief. To know he felt similarly… that he cared for her as much as she realised she had always cared about him.

"I was going to ask you out."

Whatever Barbara had been expecting his next sentence to be, that was not it. "You were?"

John nodded, almost bashfully. "Yep. After that night at the bar, after you left… I couldn't stop thinking about you, and the way your nose crinkled when you laughed-"

"It does not!'

"Does too, and anyway. I was going to ask you out for dinner, maybe catch a movie… you know, eventually, when I could muster the courage to actually open my mouth and not just ask you in my head."

That comment was enough to make her laugh all over again, covering her face with her hands as she fought to control the urge to laugh for hours at the absurdity of it all. Here they were, locked in the attic of a boys home, in the middle of a war zone - she had been shot, tortured and abducted - and yet… here they were… acting like a pair of lovesick teenagers confessing secret crushes.

"It's not that funny," he pouted, stealing a kiss in recompense as he pulled her hands from her face. "I blame Bane. He distracted me after all."

"We can add it to the ever-growing list of his crimes," Barbara teased. "Although, I suppose we do owe him at least one debt of gratitude."

"Oh?"

"Yes. He gave me you," she whispered, as if afraid to finally say the words aloud. No more laughing, no more teasing, or hiding behind lust-filled confessions. There was a sudden earnestness about her as she took a deep breath and forced her eyes to remain locked with his. Of all the things she had endured since this all started, somehow this, now, was the scariest. "Whilst I admit trapping people together in a war-torn city isn't exactly a conventional method of matchmaking, when I think about these past few months, I can't imagine you not being here. I can't imagine ever not knowing you or spending time with you. You have been more than a rock for me and the others. Whether it was solving cases together, or having you here to remind me I wasn't alone - you've been right beside me this whole time and maybe that was why I took so long to see it… to see how much you mean to me. Not just as a friend or a colleague or partner… I… I think about losing you sometimes and I realised that to do so would mean losing a part of myself."

She felt him tense beneath her as if holding his breath at what she had just admitted. Holding his breath for whatever it was she chose to say next. He didn't push her, giving her all the time she needed to continue.

"You are brave, kind, compassionate, hot-headed-"

"Hey!"

A smirk from her lips was enough to silence his protest. "All the best people are, or so I've learned. You're smart and loyal and tough. Tough enough that you've held onto all the things Gotham usually destroys in a person. Yet, throughout all your hardships you never surrendered. I… I'm in awe of you, of how you always put other people first no matter what it could cost you. And the truth is… I love you."

He leant backwards, loosing a long breath. It was as if Barbara were watching something uncoil in him as he stared at her in silent revelry. "You love me?"

She nodded.

"Good," he replied gently. "Because the truth is for a long time now I've realised that I love you. In fact, I have loved you since the day I set eyes on you, Barbara Joan Gordon. You make me ache with the need to be a better person, to deserve a woman who is as unique, courageous, independent and incredible as you. I don't even think that the word love is actually enough to convey how much I care about and cherish you."

Barbara blamed the dust in the room for the way her eyes began to sting with every word he uttered. She refused to let the tears fall as her soul began to overflow with relief and awe for the man proclaiming his feelings for her. How was she supposed to respond to what sounded almost like a prayer, a sanctified declaration of worship for her… all of her. He had seen her at her highest and her lowest and yet still wanted her…

"I would have said it sooner," John continued breathlessly. His own eyes shimmered as he cupped her cheek and pressed a delicate kiss to her forehead. "But with everything going on and you choosing to become Batgirl, you had enough to think about. You've been through so much already. But I couldn't … I couldn't stop being around you, and loving you, and wanting you. I still can't stay away."

"Then don't," Barbara choked vulnerably. "I want you beside me every moment of every day we have, whether it be one or hundreds of thousands. I want you, John Blake and I will consider it my honour to love you for as long as you let me."

It was then she slid her hands back into his hair and pressed her body against his. Clearly, her methodology worked as they fell silent again, lost in a desperate tangle of limbs. Never before had she been kissed with such passion, such hunger.

However, ironically, despite his passion, he was careful, pressing only his lower half against her as he supported his weight on his forearms. It was as if he was conscious of breaking her, even through his lust he was still worried about hurting her.

It made Barbara want to laugh harder than she had in a long time, but that was difficult when her mouth was otherwise engaged. It was also hard when every movement of his made her burn with lust, a warm feeling pooling in her lower abdomen.

Her hands pawed greedily at his shirt, and he seemed to get the message. Effortlessly, he paused only long enough to tug the material over his head, revealing to her his bare chest in the moonlight.

She may have seen it in passing these past months, when he forgot to close the bedroom door, or when he had changed shirts after training with her in the bunker, but there was something about seeing it so clearly and so closely that made Barbara's stomach drop.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," she spluttered incredulously, pulling away long enough to gape at him. Her fingers wandered over the very distinct lines on his abdomen, ignoring the reaction it was clearly having on the man above her. "Please tell me you're photoshopped or something - that's not even… only male models who sell their souls-"

John silenced her with a kiss, although she felt the way he snickered against her. Suddenly she was very grateful for the darkness of the room, and the numerous bandages covering her less than picturesque body.

It was as if he had some kind of mental link to her as he gently eased her shirt upwards and over her head. He leant close as he whispered against her skin, "you're the most breathtaking woman I've ever seen. Relax."

Easier said than done, but then again it was hard not to be swept away in the sheer sexuality of the moment. There was something carnal about it, something primitive, something that had been lingering in them both - waiting for a chance to be unleashed.

John sucked in a breath as she traced the contours of his muscled stomach, as she marvelled at the softness of his skin, the strength of the body beneath it.

He pressed a featherlight kiss to her lips. "If you're too tired," he began, even as he went wholly still while her fingers continued their journey, past the sculpted muscles of his abdomen. "We don't have to rush… Are you sure about this?"

"More than I've been about anything in my entire life."

Even with the weight of exhaustion pressing on her, as his mouth grazed over her chin, as he nipped at her bottom lip … Barbara knew what he was asking. She answered him with a kiss of her own. Another. Another and his arms encased her, cradling her passionately against him. There was no more need for words.

The way his finger intertwined into her hair made Barbara shiver as a groan escaped her lips. Her back arched in response, locking her hands through his hair in response.

"I'm clean," he whispered, bringing her back to the reality of the moment. "If you were worried."

She nodded frantically. "I'm also clean - and I have an implant."

Well, at least that was one less thing to worry about. Barbara thanked God for her habit of overthinking and over planning things. She had never been so grateful in all her life… Especially as his lips began to trail their way down her neck at an agonisingly slow pace.

A soft moan escaped her lips as they made their way lower, caressing their way over the swell of her breasts. If he noticed the bandage over the bullet wound on her shoulder, he didn't show it.

Her nails gently grazed his back, travelling downwards. The hiss that filled the air was a satisfying response, as was the feel of his muscular body arching under her caress. For a man who had always been so strong in her eyes, it made her weak to think she could make him act like this. That her touch could elicit such a wondrous and emotional response.

It was her private pleasure to see him this way. No one else in the world could or would be granted the privilege of seeing him like this. He had always been too reserved for that, and she knew it wasn't likely to change. John Blake was selective at who he admitted into his trust. Barbara was just honoured that he'd chosen her.

His lips fastened to hers in response, his hips grinding up against her heated core. Even with the remaining layers between them, Barbara felt a sharp burst of pleasure as something hard brushed against her. It was why her leg rose, coiling around him as she pulled his body closer.

His hands drifted down in response, cupping her thigh supportively while the other took the chance to feel her breast properly. There was something clearly as satisfying for him as it was for her to realise it fit perfectly in his palm.

Barbara's reaction made that perfectly clear as she arched into his touch, an arm flopping down above her head.

"Do you know how many times I've imagined this?" John groaned. "You looking at me with such longing."

His words sent a shudder straight to her core. There was something sinfully indulgent about the way he began to devote his attention and ministrations to her chest. Each gentle squeeze, kiss and caress sent Barbara spiralling further and further into the depths of desire. His lips left a trail of fire in their wake, burning brighter and harder with every inch of her he tasted.

His hands took over as his lips chose their own path, curving sharply into a descent down the swell of her breasts and toward her sternum. However, it was when they began to skim the edge of her PJs that he paused, as did his fingers.

"May I?" It wasn't so much of a request as it was a silent prayer. Glancing up at her with those lust-filled eyes Barbara was incapable of even considering denying him this. Denying herself this; what she'd spent far too many nights fantasising about.

She nodded, lifting her hips to help him as he gently guided her pyjama pants down her legs and onto the floor. His own jeans followed before he consumed her once again in a clash of lips and tongues.

There was a wicked need in Barbara as she gently nipped his lower lip. She particularly liked the growl she received in response. However, she didn't expect his next action as he broke off their kiss.

His hand began to slide up her leg until it rested on her thigh.

Like that, she let him guide her legs over his shoulders, and hook her ankles between his shoulder blades as he pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee. It tickled more than it should, and she couldn't help the soft giggle that escaped her lips as he kissed her again… and again.

"I like it when you do that," he muttered against the skin. The vibration of his voice only tickled more, but Barbara bit her lip to keep the sound in.

"What, when I laugh?" she asked as he continued to kiss his way along the inside of her right thigh. With a groan, she reached downwards, sliding her fingers through his hair to steady herself.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It means you're not snapping at me," he admitted teasingly, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of her left thigh. She shuddered as she felt his tongue lap at the skin there, and she smirked as she tightened her hand in his hair. Any protest she may have made to his comment was consumed instead by the whimper that escaped from her lips.

Ok. He wasn't playing fair.

To consume her so thoroughly, to reduce her to this lust-filled mess… John Blake knew exactly what he was doing. Barbara didn't really care how he'd acquired this knowledge, only that he was using it for her benefit. Their pasts were their own. All that mattered was the way their hearts pounded at the sight of one another, knowing how much the other cared for them.

It felt as if they'd been waiting for this moment for months. As if this was the inevitable outcome they'd been hurtling towards since fate had thrown them together. Maybe that was why it felt so right, so perfect. Never had Barbara wanted something so badly in all her life. Never had she ever wanted somebody so much that it almost hurt.

"John Blake," she groaned, laughing as he responded with his tongue in a way that didn't warrant words. "You take that back. I don't snap."

"No, of course you don't," he purred. However, the sarcasm was heavy as he chuckled against her. His mouth finally made its way to where she wanted it most, drawing a guttural groan from the back of her throat as her back arched in response. "Still, I much prefer it when you sound like this."

"Like what?"

The whine that filled the air was answer enough. As was the way her hands clawed at the sheets.

"Like you're happy," he whispered. "Like I make you happy. Make you want me even half as much as I want you."

"Then have me," Barbara managed in reply. "Have all of me."

Her command snapped whatever control he had leashed himself under. Instinct had taken control as their hands grabbed, pulled and removed their remaining clothing as fast and as skilfully as they could manage. Even then, she noticed how he touched her with great care as if trying not to touch a single inch of her body that was wounded.

His touch was feather-light, yet just as potent as it would have been had he pinned her down and ravaged her then and there. However, it was clear he wanted to savour every moment of this. Rushing was the farthest thing from his mind as he resumed his previous position, returning his full and undivided attention to between her legs.

When he began to kiss her, working her in slow sweeping strokes, Barbara swore her soul left her body. As he carried on, alternating between open mouth kisses and smooth strokes, Barbara couldn't help the noises coming from her lips.

Her groan tore out of her very core.

When he finally reached inside of her it was as if she had reached heaven herself - something he was clearly smug about as he placed a hand on her hip, pinning her to the bed. He had her at his mercy and was desperate to ruin her as he refused to let up, replacing tongue with fingers and carrying on until Barbara saw stars.

She could feel herself rising higher and higher, something inside coiling.

Her breath hitched. Her eyes rolled backwards. Then she fell headfirst over the peak of pleasure.

Her orgasm ripped through her in a tidal wave of ecstasy. Her back arched and her body shuddered as her body tried to regain control. As it was her breath had vanished from her lungs as Barbara let him guide her through the aftershock, wringing out every ounce of pleasure possible.

John's devious smile as he rose from between her legs only made it worse. In fact, it only made the longing pooling between her legs worse, returning with a vengeance.

It was agony as he slowly he prowled his way back up to her, brushing his nose and nipping gently at her skin. However, Barbara was having none of it. There was something almost greedy about the way her hands reached out and cupped his behind as if spurring him on.

This bold Barbara was new, even to herself as she began to take control. There was something powerful and intoxicating about the way her heart skipped in her chest and she craved him - all of him. It was why she chuckled to herself as she let her hand wander, taking his hard member in her grip and beginning to return the favour.

He was larger than she'd expected. So hard, yet so silken that she ran a finger down him in wonder. He hissed, cock twitching as she brushed her thumb over the tip. She smirked as she did it again.

"Babs," he roared, hips snapping forward in response as she took him fully in her palm. His expression betrayed how good he felt, letting her stroke him up and down until he almost begged for mercy. "I… I won't last if you carry on with that," he pleaded, throat bobbing as a sinful moan filled the air. Yet, he made no move to stop her, as if letting her know she held control of how this went. "Please… there's time for playing later. Let me love you."

Who was she to deny such a heartfelt request? Not when her own need was raging once more at the sight of the amazing man coming undone above her.

Her grip slacked. It was the signal he had been waiting for.

His mouth automatically found hers, the kiss open and deep, a clash of tongues and teeth. Barbara's legs locked around his back out of instinct, as if trying to remind him of what she wanted, what they both needed. The reminder was obvious as she felt the way he nudged at her entrance.

It was with great care that he slowly he began to fill her, pushing inside little by little. It had been a while since she had felt that delicious stretch, her body responding immediately to the pleasure that burned within, dulling any pain in her body.

"John," she whined, back arching. He didn't move though, not until her lust-filled eyes locked with his and she nodded in confirmation that he could. Neither of them wanted to rush this. That much became clear by the agonisingly luxurious pace John chose as he finally began to move.

They were now one, their bodies intertwined. Barbara didn't know who she was anymore. It was as if she began and ended with the pleasure that pulsated within her.

"Barbara," John choked in reply, cupping her cheek as he gazed down at her with nothing but admiration. "You feel so good."

"So do you," she echoed, moving her hips in time with his. "Oh god, yes. Just like that."

She plunged her fingers into his hair as if trying to steady herself. As it was he braced a hand beside her head. Caged within his arms, Barbara had never felt more alive.

Every creak of the old bed. The way the shadows of the candles fell across his love-stricken expression. Every soft pant and groan in her ear. These were the things Barbara tried to commit to her memory, to savour forever as the mementoes of this moment right here.

She could hardly breathe let alone think as she met him, thrust for thrust, letting him guide her at his ever-increasing pace. Each thrust was exquisite, dragging out every feeling she had all but forgotten till now. It was why she wasn't surprised how quickly she felt herself rising again, cresting towards her peak. The ever increasing frenzy of John's thrusts echoed the sentiment.

Their fingers interlocked, their sweaty brows pressed together as they both rode each other higher into oblivion.

"I love you," he gasped.

And that was her undoing. Barbara felt her climax tear through her again, her insides fluttering against him as she drew him over the edge with her. She felt his release, and it was with their names on their lips that both fell back to earth.

Silence followed, interrupted only by their panting breaths.

Finally, their heart rates steadied as they lay there together in a tangle of naked limbs. Barbara's head pressed gently into the crook of his neck as he curled an arm around her, holding her close to his flushed body.

He kissed her almost hesitantly, all his eagerness gone in the bat of an eye. Instead, suddenly, he kissed her like she had become fragile, breakable - like he was afraid that this moment was it, that this was all that they would have.

Inside, Barbara knew it was not an invalid fear. Her heart pounded as she pulled him closer, letting him wrap his arms around her.

True. On the one hand, he could be right and this could all end tomorrow or the next day. Or, it could even come to a shuddering stop the moment they made it back outside into the war-zone. One bullet… one man…. one bomb… It could all end as soon as they woke but how were they supposed to know? Were they supposed to care?

Barbara didn't want to. She didn't want to think about anything other than that moment right then. Not when John was gazing at her so intensely, his desire plain to see as he kissed her. Their breath was hot and uneven.

"Are you alright?"

He sounded so worried for her that she had to smile, running her thumb over his cheek. How was she supposed to tell him? Tell him all of it… how happy he made her, how much he meant to her, how she was so scared that letting him in was going to end in disaster for them both. After all, Gotham was a city that took rather than gave. How much had it taken from her and those she loved already? Was this just the next thing to risk?

"Perfect," she purred. "I'm utterly perfect and happy."

"Oh?"

"Yes," she giggled, trailing her hands up his spine. "This empty room, just the two of us with no one in the world to bother us… a girl could get used to this."

"Well, it's a good thing we're not leaving for a while then, isn't it?" he teased, pressing another gentle kiss to her forehead. "We've got plenty of time for just us ahead."

Maybe house arrest wasn't going to be so torturous after all.

* * *

 _ **Summary note: Basically, Barbara and John confess their feelings for one another (FINALLY!) and do what any normal humans trapped together who love one another would and get rather intimate. They also realize that spending so much time together while Babs recovers may not be such a bad prospect after all and that they want to make the most of whatever time they have together. **_


	25. Chapter 24

_**Hey everyone. Hope you're all well!**_

 _ **So, just a head's up this chapter is a little plot-heavy but there's still a lot of fluff in here for you all. I'm just super glad all of you enjoyed the last chapter - there might be more where that came from... we'll see ;)** **. You guys have just been so incredibly supportive of this story and of me, so I know I say this a lot but THANK YOU! It honestly means the world to me.**_

 _ **Thesilentmage** **x**_

* * *

Today. Today was the day Barbara was finally free - or so she declared as she hurried to face the outside world again, grateful her father, Father Reilly and John had finally agreed she was well enough to move again… with a little help.

It had been four weeks. Four. Agonising. Weeks. Her body was still sore, but most of the damage seemed sufficiently healed for her to be able to move about unsupported and with almost no pain or soreness.

However, that hadn't even been the hardest part of her recovery. That had been the never-ending debate between her and John that would occur every day about letting her try and get her strength back. It had been a constant battle, with her wearing him down day by day into letting her start to move about and train again.

At first, he had been careful. He'd only let her do a few sit-ups or press-ups and under his constant supervision. And then it had been back to bed.

Still, Barbara had taken her victory for what it was. Eventually, the sit-ups or press-ups had turned into small sparring sessions. Those sessions had turned into stretches or running drills together. Besides, it wasn't as if she hadn't snuck in the odd work out here and there when John was in the shower or out of the room and oblivious to her rebellion… and then there was also their nightly exercises too, which were far more pleasurable.

After all, it was her body. She knew its limits, and she could feel the good the rest had done her. However, she needed this. She needed something to start getting her back on track because despite John's fears and reluctance for her to resume her nightly duties Batgirl couldn't vanish forever. Batgirl and Barbara for that matter had their roles to play in the conflict she knew was coming. Her nightly radio chats with her father made that obvious enough.

It was killing her inside to sit there and miss out on the actions her father and his merry band of rebels had been taking. No wonder she practically skipped down the back steps that morning, knowing she was finally free.

John was waiting at the front door, which in turn was open to the street beyond. He ran an eye over her as she passed. From the knee-length burgundy coat, they had borrowed from one of the closets to the thicker, warmer brown pants, and a pretty cream sweater that was so soft Barbara could have slept in it. Knitted gloves had also already been stuffed into the coat's deep pockets. It was clear he wasn't taking any chances.

"Fuss much?" Barbara teased, stealing a kiss from his lips as she passed. "I feel bad borrowing clothes that were supposed to go to charity."

"We are charity, Babs," he soothed, one hand reaching for hers, the other resting loosely beside his holster. "Besides, it's a good colour on you."

"Thanks. I'd say that shirt looks good on you too but it looks better on my floor."

John's laughter was loud enough to fill the hallway. With that, they headed once more into the sunlight and began the journey home.

* * *

Even with a slight limp and hesitancy in their pace, Barbara and John managed to make their way home in record time. A mere half-hour or so later and they were making their way up the outer staircase, headed toward the hallway inside.

The excitement was palpable in the air as Barbara's pace increased until she was almost jogging to the front door. The key was waiting in her trembling grasp, slotting into the lock before she even registered the fact she'd done it. She'd made it. They were home.

The door had only opened a slither before it was wrenched out of her grasp, and she was bodily hauled inside and into the waiting arms of her father, and best friend. If she didn't know better, she'd have thought they missed her.

"Oh my God, Red!" Diane squealed, throwing herself at her in a blur of blonde burls. She coiled herself around her like some boa constrictor as she began to ramble. "You're back. You're actually back. Thank God. How are you feeling?"

"A little squished," Barbara laughed, hugging her friend back with equal enthusiasm. She didn't even care how her body barked in protest at being manhandled. She was just too damn happy to give a shit. "Just glad to be home again."

"I missed you so much."

"I missed you too, blondie."

Diane had only just released her when she was pulled into yet another embrace. Barbara didn't even need to look to know who the arms belonged to as she was pressed to someone's chest. The hand that reached up to cradle the back of her head was the biggest clue anyway.

"Dad," she choked, tears beginning to sting the corner of her eyes. It was right then that she finally felt it, felt as if she were truly home. All the longing and the waiting and the imaging were nothing in comparison to the reality before her. She felt as if she had turned into a five-year-old and she never wanted it to end as she clung to him with a deathly tight grip. "I… I… you're really here."

Her father couldn't actually say anything. She understood entirely as she felt the lump in his throat and the way he trembled against her. Apparently, she wasn't the only one doubting the reality of this moment - a moment she had been fantasising about for weeks.

"You're home," he finally grunted, punctuating his words with a kiss to her head. It was then she felt the dampness of his silent tears. Wow. She'd reduced her father, the police commissioner, into a sap. In another life, she'd have laughed at that thought until her sides ached. For now, though, she was too busy savouring it. "I'm never letting you go outside again, ever."

A light peal of laughter echoed throughout the room, even if the tension lingering suggested everyone else shared his sentiments. The only person who seemed genuinely calm was the only other person she had yet to hug - a fact he was all too eager to remedy as she stepped out of her father's hold.

"Harvey?" she choked, smirking as she let the man basically hug her to death. It only reminded her how much she'd missed seeing his face every day. "Oh my god."

"Hey, hon."

"How are you?" Then again, he didn't really need to answer that. He looked almost as rough as she did. God. He'd lost enough weight around his middle that it didn't feel like she was hugging him. Not really. At least he was here. At least he was alive, which was more than she could say for so many other innocents right now. "How's Moira?"

"Fine. We're both fine and in one piece. It's damn good to see you, kiddo," he choked, sounding more emotional than Barbara had ever heard from him. It was enough to shake her all over again as she took a deep breath, inhaling a scent that could only be Harvey. "Look at you, huh? I thought you were supposed to be the sensible Gordon. It's your dad's job to scare the shit out of me, not you."

Her father scoffed.

Barbara laughed. "If I had a choice, Harv, I'd have taken it. Sorry."

"Never be sorry for being who you truly are," he soothed, pulling back so that he could look her dead in her shimmering green eyes. "You got Gordon blood in you kid. I always said it, ever since you'd crawl around my office with that mischievous grin on your face. You can't fight it, and I'd never forgiven you if you did."

"Thanks for saying it, Harvey. I don't know what I'd do without you or the rest of our family."

"Exactly. We're family." As if trying to accentuate the point he pressed a kiss to her forehead, just as he always had. For a moment, she could have believed it was any other weekend, with him and his wife joining their family for dinner. What she'd have given for that to be true. "I'm always gonna be proud of you."

"Thanks."

"I mean, how could I not be when you're such a little friggin genius?"

Barbara laughed again, snorting at the earnestness in his voice. Harvey had always been one of her biggest fans, but even this was a new kind of pride in his expression. "Wait, Harvey. What do you mean?"

He grinned in a way that that was so distinctly him, taking her arm and leading her back over towards the others. They were all huddled together around something on the kitchen table. It was only as they parted that Barbara could see for herself what it was.

Her laptop… hooked up to a radio of some kind. The waves that appeared on it, pulsing in time to the signals flashing on screen… was it working?

"Is that-?"

"Yep," Diane beamed, squeezing her hand. "You did it, Red."

"It worked," her father explained. "Just after you left with John we got a signal through on a backchannel you'd opened. We've been in contact with the mainland, with the authorities outside of Gotham."

"You have?"

"Yeah," he repeated. "We've been working together to establish a plan and co-ordinate a response. It's slow going, but the plans you recovered have been a great help. Once they heard the bomb was going to go off anyway… well, let's just say they got a lot more animated."

To hear such a thing made Barbara's heart race. To think some other good had come of her actions was enough to make her feel invincible. Like she suddenly could take on the world if it came to it. Hell, she'd take her beating all over again if it helped even half as much as this whole mess seemed to have done.

Being able to tell her father what she'd found over the radio these past weeks had been a blessing. Both she and John had read the plans and schematics over and over till they were memorised to heart. "Has Lucius figured out a way to stop it yet?"

"He's working on it," Harvey explained. "We need to set up another meeting with him. He's been laying low, making it damn hard to get anything from him safely. The best we've got is some written messages he's been passing on to us via trusted people."

Well, that had to be the first thing remedied now that she was back and in action. Barbara added it to the mental checklist she'd been keeping during her recovery period. Now that she was up and about she wasn't planning on wasting a damn second - especially when they only had a limited number of those left.

"We better get to work then," she sighed, thinking of better ways to ensure communication. She also needed to catch up with Diane about their other side operation. Gotham needed both its protectors back and fast.

"We can talk over dinner," her father soothed as if sensing his daughter's restlessness. "Once you've eaten and had some time to rest we can see about working again."

Considering that was normally her line to him, Barbara knew well enough not to argue. That, and she was pretty damn hungry so found it easier to concede to his fussing and join the others at the already prepared table. He was right. Work could wait. Even if they were on a deadline, she wanted just a moment to savour being here again… being home with her family. Who knew how many more moments like this they had left?

* * *

Tonight had been long and cold. But Barbara was more determined than ever to make it through without complaint, no matter how much her body barked at her in protest.

Now, though, sitting on the edge of the roof with Diane beside her, Barbara was content. She felt relief and pride at what she'd achieved.

"Heard from Selina?" Barbara whispered, keeping her eyes on the street below.

Diane nodded, her blonde hair fluttering in the late-night breeze. "She told us where Bane was keeping you, plus she's been funnelling us intel."

Now that was a surprise. A good surprise, but a surprise none the less. Barbara actually couldn't believe it for a moment as she chuckled, letting the news settle in her mind. "Well well well, who said a wildcat could never be tamed?"

"Or grow a conscience?"

Barbara snorted at the thought. Perhaps that was a little too generous for Selina Kyle. She had a softer side, but a conscience? That was still just a little way out of her reach, though at this rate she could get there sooner than she'd ever thought possible. The world really had turned itself upside down.

"Shall we go home?" she sighed. "We both need some sleep."

Diane nodded, rising and offering a hand out to her. "You got it, partner."

* * *

The past few weeks, it was if a mask had been removed. There was no mistaking the feelings that had been brewing between Barbara and John since the beginning. It had become natural now to express their feelings. There was no longer any doubt in either of their minds as to how the other felt, and now that Barbara knew how it felt to have someone look at her with such longing she couldn't imagine ever going back to how it had been before. There was such desperation in her heart at the thought of ever losing it.

In part, Barbara now understood how much John must have feared for her whenever she'd gone out as Batgirl. It was a nauseating terror that sat in her gut every time she even thought of John in danger… of losing him, of losing this - whatever this was. It wasn't exactly a conventional relationship by any means. It was pure lust, longing and desperation - a beacon of hope in a world of darkness, and god help her: Barbara wasn't ready to let it slip away.

It was why, that night after they'd returned to the safe house when John had entered her room to sleep by her side as normal, she hadn't been able to stay away. Of course, initially, both of them had stood there in the dim lighting of the room, gazing at one another breathlessly as if terrified moving would shatter the perfect moment.

Neither of them had said a word since they'd made it back to the apartment, and it felt as if the trend was about to continue, both at a loss of where to even start. It was rare to see them both so dishevelled, and civilian, dressed in baggy pyjamas. It was a side of each other they were privy to. No armour, no mission, no disguises… it was merely themselves that existed at that moment, that they longed for.

"I love you."

The moment felt like an eternity as he responded, "I love you too."

Her bare feet padded across the carpet towards him, feeling remarkably as if there was someone pushing her as she drew to a stop before him.

Her lips quirked into a smile as he had leant in closer, watching as his eyes sought hers as if waiting for permission to approach. With a soft sigh, Barbara had closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his and rising ever so slightly on to her toes so that she could hold him to her.

A giggle escaped her lips as he hoisted her upwards effortlessly, wrapping her legs around his torso as he carried her with ease towards the awaiting bed. She forgot how strong he was, a fact she was joyously reminded of as her body pressed closer to his sculpted physique.

The fact that sleep did not appear for either of them till the sun began to peek over the horizon was irrelevant. All that mattered right then, was the peace that filled both their hearts, knowing for that now they had each other. The world outside their window did not exist, it was only this, only them and it was perfect.

* * *

Sleeping beside him had made it easier, but as Barbara finished dressing for the day she knew it was only a dam. One day this was going to all catch up on her and flood out. The dreams, the flashbacks of being there with Bane… everything that had haunted her still floated in her mind, even if the medication and John had done a more than admirable job at blocking it all out. She dreaded when it would no longer be enough.

Until then, she was going to carry on as she had before. Being busy was her best shot here, just as it had always been. Work was a better therapist than any somebody could prescribe her. That, and knowing she wasn't alone. She had people who cared about her just as much she did them.

A final inspection in the mirror confirmed she was officially Dad-proof and good to go. John had long since risen, slipping out of her room unnoticed in the early hours of the morning - as was their routine.

Barbara cast one last glance back at the mirror, before hurrying out into the hall. The last thing she needed was some sign of her nightly actives to give her and John away. Not yet anyway.

Speaking of John, she watched as he rounded the corner of the hallway, striding toward her with a mug of what she guessed was lukewarm coffee in each hand. Even this early he looked so attractive, a quiet composure and alertness radiating off of him. The fact he also had time to think of small affectionate gestures like this made her heart race. In a world as cold and empty as the snow outside, John Blake was the light that kept her going.

"Either you've got a caffeine addiction, or I'm guessing one of those is for me?" Barbara greeted, smirking as she went to receive his offering. A kiss to his cheek was his payment. "Thank you, you're a lifesaver."

"I try," he smirked back, savouring the way her face lit up when she looked at him. Well, she could tell he hoped it was because of him and not the caffeinated beverage in his hands. It really was Gordon gold. "I thought you could use a cup before your father drinks the entire pot - again."

"And he says I have a problem."

"Which you do," John smirked, his expression slipping as he finally took the time to take her in. Barbara knew the moment he noticed the number of layers she had on, as well as the scarf around her neck. He didn't need his detective badge to put this one together. "You're coming?" he asked, sounding genuinely surprised. Barbara didn't know why. Of course, she was going.

"Yes, I'm coming. You have an issue with that?" she demanded quickly, straightening up and placing her free hand on her hip. She gave him a wary stare, almost daring him to argue with her.

"No, no I don't," John replied smoothly, holding his hands up in surrender. "But I know for a fact your dad will," he continued, "And I know I wouldn't want to start a fight with him."

Barbara laughed weakly. "John. I've been fighting with him since I could talk. I think I can handle this. Besides, if you two think you can ditch me for a secret club you've got another thing coming."

John sighed and put his hands down. "So be it. Don't say I didn't warn you," he muttered, turning back towards the hallway. "And Babs… you don't have anything to prove. To anybody. You just got back. No one's expecting Batgirl to make an appearance at this meeting. We're just glad _you're_ back. Batgirl's great and all, but I rather like Barbara Gordon and I'm not ready to lose her just yet."

He wasn't saying it, but it was clear that John was on edge. His hands were constantly twitching and he kept reaching towards the gun at his hip, just waiting to have to fire it. He was acting as if they were in danger already, which in his mind they were. They were always in danger.

With a heavy sigh, Barbara turned back to the hallway and made to follow John. However, she hadn't even made it a step before she heard footsteps approaching from behind her.

"Morning," Diane breathed, passing Barbara in the hallway. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

Diane nodded, visibly relieved by her answer. "Anything you want to tell me before we go?"

"Like what?"

"Like what's going on between you and John. Don't think I missed the fact he's been sleeping in your room for the past week."

Barbara felt her eyes widen in horror and embarrassment. However, she was saved the trouble of explaining as Diane did the job for her.

"Don't worry," she chuckled, winking as she linked her arm through Barbara's. "Your Dad knows nothing. I'm just a super ninja at this kind of thing, that, and the chemistry between you two is suffocating."

"Oh?" Barbara sighed, pulling free so that she could down the remainder of her coffee. "Really?"

Diane smirked but sighed as she followed her friend back down the hall. It seemed this conversation was over for now. But she was not about to let it go, and Barbara knew it.

 _Great._

Barbara entered the living room, readjusting her leather jacket so that it was zipped all the way up over her jumper. She was wrapped warmly from head to toe and had a determined look on her face. Her eyes drifted across the room to John and her father as they made their final preparations to leave. There was a tense silence between the four of them, broken only by small mutterings between the men as they moved about the kitchen.

Barbara knew they were all wound up inside- They always were when they left the apartment. It wasn't as if they didn't have good reason to be. She knew if her father had his way she wouldn't be going.

It was dangerous but she knew that but she could handle herself. She also knew there was no way her dad would be happy if he knew she didn't have a firearm with her today, but as if she was going to need one. Batgirl didn't kill and neither did she. John had offered her one and even shown her how to use it. It just didn't feel right. She'd escaped before without a gun, handling numerous of Bane's thugs.

She could handle this.

Her father, of course, didn't agree.

Barbara had only just stepped into the living room when he turned and began to shake his head at the sight of her bundled up like that.

"Oh no," he frowned, sounding oddly like John had moments ago. They really were in sync sometimes. "I know what you're thinking. No. You're not coming," he told her gruffly. "You're in no state whatsoever. Mentally. Physically. You're not ready."

"I'm not?" she snapped defensively, folding her arms across her chest. "I'm not just going to sit here, and be benched."

"I'm not advising you on this, Barbara. I'm telling you to stay home," her father told her, forcefully. "The last thing we need is for you to risk yourself when you're still recovering," he explained, straightening his glove. He shook his head, "this fight isn't going to be an easy one."

"You don't think I know that?" Barbara snapped back, finding his tone only aggravated her further. It was as if telling a child not to do something. Barbara wanted only all the more to do it, just to be able to prove she could. "That's why I have to be there; You need everyone you've got, and right now? That's not a lot of people."

For a man who loved condemning emotions, Her father sure wore his on his sleeve sometimes.

The staredown lasted for what felt like an eternity as both Gordon's watched each other closely. Barbara almost swore she heard the sounds of a western movie playing in the background as both waited for the other to surrender. Eventually, her father cracked, pinching the bridge of his nose in resigned.

"God damn the Gordon genes," her dad breathed, slowly reaching for the locks on the door. He slid back the chain and undid the bolts before cautiously prying the door open with a small squeak. He calmly stepped out first into the hallway and after a brief moment nodded back to them. "Let's go."

Without another word they followed stealthily, keeping close to the walls as they began their movements. Following carefully, keeping eyes on each other they moved, scurrying through back alleys and along fire escapes, weaving through the intricate streets of Gotham.

Thankfully, they didn't take long to arrive at the abandoned shop front that had been selected for this operation.

"We made it," John whispered, sounding relieved as he shut the heavy door behind them, sealing them into the warmth. Barbara nodded weakly, glad to be able to feel her fingers again. After Bane, she was on high alert for any trouble and somehow, she had a bad feeling about this.

Gordon looked at the two of them, and Diane, giving a weak smile as he undid the top of his coat. "This way, we don't have long. They'll be here any minute."

"Who?" Barbara asked suddenly, giving them both a curious stare. She wasn't a hundred percent sure what was even happening today. They'd had enough meetings here before, but being gone for nearly a month, she knew she'd missed a lot. Today was where she started catching up.

"The cavalry," John answered simply, laying a reassuring hand on her shoulder, guiding her down the dimly lit corridor she'd become accustomed to. Their footsteps echoed loudly around them, and Barbara sighed.

This was the part where she waited, she thought; luckily it was something she'd become very good at.

* * *

The meeting hadn't exactly been going smoothly. Tension had been rising with every passing moment since they'd all got here, and Special Agent Jones, as he'd introduced himself, wasn't exactly helping.

Ever since Barbara had first laid eyes on the man she'd known he was trouble. There was an arrogance to him that set her teeth on edge, regardless of whether or not he was there to help them.

At least his presence proved one thing: her efforts had paid off. She'd got word to the mainland and convinced the government not to abandon them. All her hours hacking and transmitting messages through backchannels and networks had actually worked… Even without a mask, she could be useful.

John had been right after all. Barbara Gordon was pretty great too… even if not in the eyes of Special Agent Jones.

Barbara had been waiting for either him or John to start slamming the other one into the wall. By the way the men were all but sizing each other up, Barbara guessed she had minutes if not seconds till that happened.

"Dial it back officer," Jones soothed in a slightly condescending tone, shaking his head at whatever John had just said. It was clear that he sympathised with the officer. The sympathy in his eyes said he truly did, but Barbara knew it would take more than sympathy here if they wanted to get anything done. If they wanted to make a difference. "The situation is unprecedented and we can't do anything that will risk millions of lives."

John opened his mouth as if to say something that would undoubtedly make things worse, but Barbara got there first.

"In the meantime," she began loudly, drawing their attention, "I can get the power back online." Barbara turned, stepping forward into the group of bickering men, facing them as she spoke. "I managed to figure out how before everything happened and Bane got me. Now I'm out, it's time I got us some electricity again so we can contact the outside world, let them know what's been going on here as well as giving our people back some power."

Jones turned, giving her a curious and slightly surprised look. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. "And how the hell are you going to do that?" he demanded, scepticism dripping off of every word.

Barbara stiffened.

She didn't like his tone.

It was a tone she was more than familiar with, having heard it ever since she'd been born. She was irritated by it. Did he think she was just a little girl? She frowned, mirroring his disbelieving stance and shaking her head as she spoke.

"Through the use of some very advanced hacking and computer science skills, plus a little bit of stealthiness. Don't worry, I can explain it so even you can understand it," she snapped icily. She stepped further forward, gesturing suddenly to the numerous large maps splayed out across the kitchen surface beside her. She unfolded her arms and began to point as she elaborated.

"They cut the power by shutting off the mains supply in the Gotham power plant, which is here. What they didn't realise is there is a back-up supply located at the edge of midtown Gotham, here, connected to all power supplies as a back-up in case of a city-wide power outage. The whole thing isn't on any updated plans or city blueprints as it was forgotten about, _luckily_ I found it when doing a little digging before. If I can get over there, wire up to the system and start it, I should be able to turn the power back on for short amounts of time. I managed to write a programme that should manage it for us. We don't want it being on for too long at a time, otherwise, Bane will figure out where we're getting it from and shut it down."

"And we should listen to a kid why?"

At this rate, she was going to beat John and get her shot at Jones first. Her father clearly knew that himself as he strategically stepped forward, incidentally inserting himself between them like some human barricade.

"I'm not a kid," she snapped. "Right now I'm your best shot at getting some god damn help in here and ending this without a full out war. I have an IQ of over 150, an eidetic memory, and an almost complete advanced degree in computer science and law. I'm also the reason you're even stood here right now. How many other people do you know who could hack their way into military-grade servers? So shut up unless you have a better idea?"

The silence she received was clearly an answer.

"Good," she sighed a moment later, looking at a very amused looking Diane.

"I'll cover you too," Diane said firmly. "Although it doesn't seem like you need much help, Red."

"I'll always need you, partner. We're a team."

"Couldn't agree more," Diane smirked, though Barbara could see the gratitude and affection in her eyes as she said it. The way she squeezed her hand under the table also made it clear how she felt to have her best friend back. "We need our strongest assets right now."

"Well, once we have power, I can access the satellite footage again and restart tracking where the trucks are moving. We can't take it for granted the route is the same even though we've been tracking them, rather than the radiation, for months now."

"There are thousands of people here, men, women, children… they all have to be our priority. We can't mess this up," Diane added passionately.

"You think I didn't already know that?" Agent Jones sighed, shaking his head. "Look, we also need to deal with the bomb in a way that won't make this worse.

"You going to tell him?" John demanded suddenly, turning his attention towards Gordon. It was clear he'd had enough. "Are you gonna tell them what's really been going on?"

Barbara's father sighed. "Captain, the situation is more complicated than you think. There's someone you need to meet."

* * *

It felt a lifetime ago Barbara had been last stood here outside the back of the abandoned Wayne Enterprises headquarters. Just as she had all those months ago, she felt a shudder run down her spine at the sight that greeted her as she crept her way inside, following the train of people in front.

John was leading the way, guiding their small scouting party further into the labyrinth of empty offices and hallways. A mere shell of what it used to be. At least this time it wasn't just her and Diane. This time she was accompanied by John and the three agents.

It was a minor miracle they'd managed to get her father to agree to stay behind, and that had only been once Diane had reminded him it was just too dangerous to put all their assets into one room. One target. Barbara didn't trust anyone else to keep him safe other than her partner.

"Jesus," she heard Special Agent Jones whisper, eyes wide in disbelief. Apparently, their reports hadn't done the devastation justice if they were surprised to see such decay and disorder around them. This certainly wasn't the Gotham they knew or remembered.

"This isn't even the worst of it," John echoed, kicking a stray board out of the way. At least this helped their cause. It also meant that John and Jones didn't need to talk to each other again - much to everyone's relief… this alone was speaking volumes. "I came in here for the rooftop, looking for a vantage point and we found the people who used to run the corporation living here."

Agent Jones paused. "What corporation?"

"Wayne Enterprises," Barbara answered, staring forlornly at the worn and battered logo hanging on the wall instead. A mere echo of what it used to be, coated in dust and rubble like the rest of the city.

She looked away, stepped into the elevator and sighed, brushing her hand against John's to remind her he was here. That they'd make it through this one way or another. Even with the agents stood behind her she felt vulnerable.

So much so, a sigh of relief escaped her lips as the doors finally slid open again, allowing them to file out into the dark and chaotic hallway beyond. Her relief only increased as she lay eyes on the two figures waiting for them just ahead.

Lucius Fox and Miranda Tate.

"Mr Fox," John began, shaking the man's hand as they drew closer. Barbara did the same, also exchanging a brief smile with Miranda. The woman looked just as Barbara expected her to given the situation. She admired the courage she knew it had taken for her to be here today given all that was happening. Still, she looked like a rabbit in headlights, waiting for the moment to flee. "Would you like to brief the captain?"

"Miss Tate is fully aware of the situation," Lucius began, gesturing to the woman beside him as if to explain her presence to the curious-looking agents now stood before them.

"And as CEO of Wayne Enterprises," she added hastily, "I have to take responsibility for it."

Special Agent Jones paused. His eyebrow rose as if trying to make sense of her declaration. "Why?" he asked slowly as if already knowing the answer in his heart. It would explain the horrified anticipation that was so obvious in his eyes.

"We built it."

"You built the bomb?"

Lucius sighed, looking pained with every word that escaped his lips. Barbara could see how the hope that had once been there had all but burnt out. It broke her heart. He was a man who had given so much to this city both through his daily and nightly activities. Men like him and her father were the only reason this city had stood as long as it had. "It was built as a fusion reactor. First of its kind. Bane turned the core into a bomb and removed it from the reactor."

"Here's the important part," John continued, looking back at Lucius encouragingly.

"As the device's cells deteriorate," Lucius continued coldly, "it becomes increasingly unstable to the point of detonation."

"This bomb is a time bomb."

"And," Lucius winced as if dreading to add to the already weighty news. "It will go off in 23 days. Regardless of Bane's revolution or what we or the outside world choose to do."

Silence met his declaration.

No one dared move. No one dared speak. Barbara was almost sure no one was daring to even breathe as the news settled in the air. It was just as harrowing hearing it again now as it had been when she'd heard it for herself only a few short weeks ago when she'd reviewed the plans with John by torchlight.

"So your appeasement plan might not be as practical as you thought," John added gruffly, finally daring to be the one to draw everyone back to the task at hand. Now did they see? See why their hopes for peace and no confrontation were pointless? Soon enough there'd be nothing left of Gotham for them to save if they didn't act and fast.

"Could you disarm it?" Jones asked as if trying vainly to cling to some semblance of optimism. Barbara almost admired him for it.

"I could," Lucius began slowly, "if I could reconnect it to the reactor, stabilise it."

That was enough for Agent Jones. Enough that he nodded to the agents either side of him and watched as they nodded in agreement.

"We'll move away from this location and call it in then," Jones explained, turning already back toward the elevator.

"Thank God," Barbara murmured to herself, making as if to follow. However, she was incredibly surprised to see Agent Jones stop, turning to block her way with a sympathetic smile. God, she hated that smile.

"No," he stated, "we'll take it from here. You two should stay here and look after these folks."

These folks? He made it sound like an old peoples' home, and Barbara didn't appreciate it even if she did appreciate what he was about to do for them. It was the only reason she didn't argue and remained where she stood.

She watched them disappear back into the elevator without so much as a goodbye.

"Well," Lucius smirked, echoing her thoughts. "They seemed … nice?"

Nice wasn't even close to the word Barbara would have used, but they'd at least done their job. If they could make contact with the mainland and tell them the truth of the situation then at least they could expect more help from the government. More men. More resistance to Bane rather than this terrifying apathy they'd been receiving.

Apathy had got them nowhere and it showed.

A sudden peal of gunfire silenced whatever attempts were about to be made at small talk, as well as any hope Barbara had been feeling up until that moment. The sound was one that sent ice flooding through Barbara's veins as she realised what was happening.

"Someone sold us out," John snapped, ducking automatically and pulling Miranda down with him.

Barbara ducked to the side and reached to grab Lucius with her, only to be stopped as he pulled away.

"Go!" Lucius ordered, shoving John and Miranda to their feet. They immediately turned and made to leave via the staircase at the other end of the balcony. Barbara didn't. Instead, she stood her ground. "You too, Miss Gordon," Lucius urged desperately.

It would do no good. "Not without you," she warned, about to drag him with her. However, she was unable to finish that sentence as the thundering sound of boots rang out on the marble floor behind her. She turned and swung her fist sharply at the mercenary that appeared - gun drawn.

She swivelled, lashing out a kick as she flipped him to the floor with a heavy cry.

"Lucius!" she cried, turning her head back to him, but it was too late.

He shook his head, hands already in the air as he stood back. More thundering footsteps told Barbara she had no choice but to turn and follow after where she'd last seen the others heading.

"Fuck," she hissed, bolting as fast as she could. It took everything she had to fight the urge to go back and defend her friend. Then again, he'd made this choice - this sacrifice. She had to honour that like he'd honoured her choice to pick up her cowl all those months ago.

He wanted her free, and free she would be. It was why she didn't stop running until she had reached the outside of the building,

Even then, she physically didn't stop until she'd turned the corner and saw the remainder of their group standing there in the shadow of a doorway.

As soon as she clapped eyes on John, he moved. He ran to her, closing the gap between them as he realised she was safe. His hands slid around her waist and pulled her close to him, forgetting any feelings of awkwardness or panic.

"What part of 'run' didn't you understand?" John whispered jokingly, but she could feel the terror beneath his words.

"Sorry."

John immediately burst into laughter, shaking his head as he stared at her. "You're going to be the death of me, Barbara Gordon."

How she hoped that wasn't true. "We uh, we need to go," she encouraged, pressing a kiss to his icy cheek as she began to make her way back down the street. Miranda and John followed her… the last remaining members of their party.

Today hadn't been a success after all.


	26. Chapter 25

Gotham was never out of surprises. Of that, Barbara was more than sure. Every night threw something new at her, whether it be good or bad, she took it in her stride with as much grace and strength as she could muster.

This night alone had caught her off guard as she ran her way along the edge of the rooftop, feeling the comforting sensation of brick beneath her boot and wind against her cheek. Out of the corner, she could see Diane doing the same, mirroring her on the parallel rooftop.

She shot her partner a wink as they split off and took to their separate routes. It had become a habit for them, splitting and reuniting at different intervals to make sure their presence was felt as far across Gotham as possible. It wouldn't do to let the criminals and scum bags walking the street to think they could possibly hide or escape their reaches.

The bats were everywhere.

Or so Barbara liked to think as she chuckled, dropping from the roof and onto the edge of the fire escape below. Her destination had been decided for her as she had heard the steady panicked cries coming around the corner. They were normally a pretty accurate beacon for trouble, and Barbara was once again proved right.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to a group of people stood in the middle of the street below her.

From the looks of it there appeared to be four figures of reasonable height and build. They were dotted about the place, but even from her perch, Barbara could tell which one was leading them. It was hard to ignore the swagger and composure of the woman as she stepped forward, circling the fifth member of this scene.

Barbara felt her heart stop.

Was that… a child?

Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she watched what was happening below. Their leader was a slender woman, masked behind the large fur coat she wore and the bright purple hair she had piled atop her head.

It was hard to miss her, even without her loud laughter as she stepped toward the smaller girl. She reached out sharply and pulled the girl toward her, only to throw her hard against the side of the dumpster that was pinning her into this circle like trap.

The others laughed as they watched. That was enough for Barbara. Ok. Each and every one of these freaks were getting a turn with her until they learned to pick on people their own size. Not what was obviously a frightened blonde teenager.

Barbara growled under her breath as she watched the leader again as she approached the snarling kid, hauling her by her arm, not caring at the pain she was causing the kid as she twisted it in behind her back and kicked the back of her knee. The kid dropped to the floor immediately.

"I didn't know this territory was yours," she stammered. She could only be about thirteen. Possibly a little older. "I wouldn't have taken the food otherwise."

Food? That was what this was about? Barbara felt her eyes narrow dangerously as she noticed the offending items, nothing more than a small loaf of bread and a couple bottles of water. She watched as the gang took them back and chuckled to themselves.

It was obvious it wasn't about the food itself. It was the honour and pride that was involved that had these ladies so worked up. That, and their sick need to pick on people to make them feel like they still had some kind of power in this city.

Barbara wasn't about to let them get any more satisfaction. Not on her watch.

"Hey!" she called suddenly, standing up tall before leaping down to the ground in a blur of black and yellow armour. It was more than enough to gather their attention as all four women turned sharply, recoiling in panic and surprise.

"You," one gasped, pointing at her in obvious terror. "It's you… the Batgirl."

"You got that right," Barbara smirked, "and I don't like it when people act like complete assholes and pick on kids. Not in my city."

"Your city?" Their leader piped up sharply, reminding her oddly of Selina as she prowled closer. There was a swagger to her that was far too comfortable for Barbara's liking. "Last I checked I didn't see your name on it. Bane's in charge and this little brat needs to be taught a lesson about property and ownership."

"Bane may own this city for now," Barbara warned icily, "but that's about to change. So step away from the girl and we'll pretend like this never happened."

"Oh? Or what?"

"Or I'll have to make you," Barbara sighed, smiling at the thought. Oh, she was going to enjoy this.

Like that, it was as if someone had lit a match and hurled it into the gunpowder as chaos suddenly erupted on all sides. Barbara didn't even have time to blink before she saw the first fist flying its way toward her first. Thankfully, she was ready.

It had been weeks since her last proper patrol and by now she was spoiling for a fight… and that was what they were about to get.

Barbara grinned wickedly as she ducked, twisted and sent the first women sailing headfirst into the wall with a resounding bang. Her attention turned solely to the next woman, handling her with just as much strength and speed. All it took was a couple of punches, well-aimed dives and kicks to have her on the floor.

However, as Barbara looked up in preparation for the next one she stopped. Her jaw dropped in complete disbelief at what she was seeing.

The girl… the teenage girl had crawled her way up on top of the dumpster, a random beer bottle clasped in her hand… her eyes set firmly on her tormentor below - who just so happened to be looking at Barbara, and not at the immediate threat behind her.

Barbara paused, watching in surprise as the girl leapt off the top of the dumpster, swinging the beer bottle in her hand. It hit the leader across the back of the head, shattering into tiny pieces as the woman collapsed immediately, face down in the dirt.

Ok.

She liked this kid.

She had guts. So much so, she didn't flee as she stood there and watched Barbara deal with the last of their unwanted visitors.

Once they were lying face down on the concrete, unconscious, the two of them finally let out a breath of relief.

"You know," Barbara began breathlessly, turning to stare at her most recent save. "Stealing isn't smart if you know you're gonna get caught. You also should have run back there… even if the bottle was pretty awesome."

She paused, staring down at the girl. The flames of a nearby trashcan fire flickered in her golden locks, despite the fact they were streaked with snow and soot by the looks of it. Her emerald eyes also seemed unusually bright in the moonlight.

"Batgirl?" she whispered in an awe-struck voice.

"That's me," Babs nodded, looking hastily over her shoulder. "But we should get out of here, kid. You should go home."

As Barbara glanced side to side she was at least relieved to see no traces of any other possible assailants lurking in the shadows. The coast was clear for now, and she was eager to capitalise on that.

However, the girl seemed less eager. The fact she was still standing there despite Barbara's warning, watching her, said as much. Barbara had expected her to flee without so much as a backwards glance - hell, she would have done had their situations been reversed. But there was clearly something about this kid, enough to peak her curiosity. After all, most kids didn't have the courage to knock a fully grown adult out with only a stray glass bottle.

"So," Barbara managed, turning so that she could kneel before the shivering child. Shock and the night air were beginning to replace whatever adrenaline had been flooding through her system. "What's your name then?"

"Stephanie," she replied eagerly. "Stephanie Brown… I got lost earlier and then it got dark so I panicked. I didn't mean to take the food but I was hungry."

"Stephanie, huh?" she smirked. "Well, Stephanie you're one brave kid."

At that, Stephanie's chest puffed out. Her whole body seemed to swell with pride at hearing those words from her lips. "Only because of you. Thanks for that," she explained, reaching into her collar and pulled something out, letting it sit in the middle of her chest. "I made it, so I could be brave like you."

Barbara didn't know how to feel as she glanced at the pendant hanging there, attached to a thin string around her neck. It was a perfect likeness in the shape; it was a bat. A small one carved out of a thin piece of metal, but in the exact same shape as the one on Barbara's own chest. The thought that she brought comfort to people, that the emblem on her chest shone brightly through the darkness that swarmed Gotham, was enough to knock the breath clean out of her.

"You did?" The words fell from her lips as she stared down at the girl. "Well then, I'm glad it's given you the strength it's given me." Her hand gently reached up, tracing the emblem on her chest, feeling the ridged armour beneath her finger in a comforting reminder. "My partner is just around the corner. We're gonna walk you home, ok?"

And so they did, after being told the address. Together, she, Diane and Stephanie made their way back through the streets, watching as Stephanie finally made her way safely back inside the apartment building her parents had chosen to shelter them. The look of gratitude on their faces was enough for Barbara and Diane as they watched the girl being pulled into a fierce embrace.

Tonight was a good night.

* * *

She could tell by the stillness her father was asleep, and Diane had made it back into her room successfully after racing her back across the rooftops of Gotham.

Barbara groaned as she limped through the window, and into the darkened bedroom that night to find John sitting at the desk, poring over a book. Apparently, he had been serious earlier when he had said he'd wait up for her, to make sure she came back in one piece.

"I warned you that you're not back up to full strength yet," he murmured without looking up at her. There was nothing judgemental in his voice, only sympathetic as he pointed towards the door. "There may or may not also be a bath for you."

Despite her initial irritation at him, his last comment was enough to quell any sudden urge to throw him out the window. He'd got enough hot water for a rare bath? Barbara wanted to kiss him all over again… but she didn't have the energy.

Instead, she grumbled a "thank-you" and trudged toward it, gritting her teeth against the agony in her back, her thighs, her bones. Every part of her body hurt.

However, as soon as she opened the door and beheld the steaming bath that would require some balancing to get into, she whimpered. Even removing the last of her clothes would entail using muscles that had nearly given out.

Tenderly, and oh so slowly, John assisted in removing her troublesome clothes, tossing them onto the floor in a heap as he bolted the door behind them. With even more care and grace, he then proceeded to sweep Barbara up into his arms, lowering her naked body into the water.

As soon as the water touched her skin she let out a guttural groan from deep in her throat at the glorious heat and didn't bother to do anything other than lean her head against the back of the tub.

"Someone sounds happy," he chuckled, perching on the floor beside her.

Barbara managed to smile blearily at him, and flick a little of the water into his face as payback. Still, she was so grateful in that moment for him… for everything he was, and everything he did for her. Even now, he stayed by her side, knowing that if he left her there by the time he returned, she'd have fallen asleep.

"Join me?" she murmured temptingly.

"I'd love to," he began huskily, looking very much as if it was taking all his energy not to plunge into the water with her. "But you need the water more than I do, and splashing it all over this floor would be a waste, not to mention would also probably wake everyone else up."

"Spoilsport," Barbara whined, but she was content for now just to stare into his eyes and let the water envelope her body.

Just before the water went cold, he also put a hand on her shoulder. "Out," he said but lifted her himself, towelled her off, and led her to their awaiting bed.

In the darkness, they lay there together in a well-rehearsed routine. John held her close to him, his arms circled around her protectively as she nestled into his side. Barbara then lay her head down on his sturdy chest, letting her ear rest just over his heart so that she could listen to its soothing and steady beat.

They didn't need to say anything. Both of them knew better than that as they let the silence do the talking for them as well as the little touches and gestures they gave one another. A soft peck here, or gentle caress there. These moments were for them and them alone. Everything outside that bedroom didn't exist and wouldn't until sunlight filtered in again the following moment.

It was their time, a sacred ritual both observed with as much dedication and severity as any church or religious service. Maybe it was the severity of that night that prompted Barbara to open her mouth, or maybe it was the overflowing love she felt spilling out of her heart for the man she now lay beside. A man she knew who would do anything and everything for her, no questions asked. That kind of devotion was beyond rare.

"You know," she whispered, her eyes fluttering shut as she felt him press another slow kiss to the crown of her head. "I realised dying isn't so bad - not if you go together with someone you care about, for something that matters."

John didn't say anything for the longest time, choosing instead to run his fingers up and along her spine instead as if trying to process what she'd said or how to react to it.

"A short but loving, worthwhile life? That isn't bad at all. In fact, it's more than most people get," she continued, suggesting to John she'd spent a considerable amount of time on this topic. It was a bleak one, ill-suited to any normal night like this, but John knew better. He knew they couldn't be sure how many more of these they would get. It was a reality they had to face, but as Barbara said, they would do it together. "I don't need some future with rocking chairs, and watching sunsets on porches. We only get to live our lives once, John Blake. Then, if that's how it is, I'm content to spend what's left of mine living every day to the fullest with you by my side."

The look on his face said he knew it all too well. "The truth is I didn't have a life before this, before you. I was surviving but not living. Not really. It was only after I first met you that I felt as if something inside of me changed as if a part of me was finally waking up after all this time… your life, your passion, your spirit called out to me like a siren's song, and by god did I want to plunge headfirst if it meant being closer to you. You are my life, Barbara Gordon. It begins and ends with you, no matter what else happens."

"I love you," she said again. She didn't dare say the words in her head. "And I'd endure every second of it over again so I could find you. And if war comes, we'll face it. Together. I won't let them take me from you. And I won't let them take you from me, either."

Both tightened their grip on the other as if to remind themselves physically of that promise. It would take more than Bane to rip them apart.

* * *

The next morning appeared as it always did, slowly and intrusively as sunlight forced its way between the blind slats, dripping light and colour into the otherwise silent bedroom.

The silence that followed proved no one else in the safe house was awake yet to experience it. It was for that reason, amongst others, that Barbara chose to languish in it as long as possible, feeling the warmth of the sunlight as well as John against her exposed skin. It felt blissful, almost as blissful as the feeling of the duvet cocooning her and John together.

Was it any surprise neither were in a rush to leave the bed and face the world again? Even putting on clothes and making it to the kitchen for food seemed impossible and hardly worth the effort. So, instead, they chose to lay there, talking softly amongst themselves for as long as the morning would let them… or until the clock did.

"I wish we could do this all day," John whispered softly, peppering kisses to her cheek as he did so. "Just imagine it… you, me, this big bed and nowhere to go."

That sounded like heaven itself.

"That sounds blissful," Barbara whined, burying herself closer as she tried to ignore how much she was now wishing that were true. "I fantasise what it would have been like had this not all happened if you and I had had the chance to meet and get to know each other like normal people."

"Oh?" Curiosity laced John's tone as he gazed down at her. His hand danced along her spine soothingly. "What does this fantasy look like then?"

"You and me … acting like a normal couple," Barbara confessed whimsically, back arching in response. Sometimes she was like a cat, and John swore she almost purred when he touched her right. "We didn't have the chance to get to know each other properly and continue with the whole awkward conversations and nervous glances whenever we ran into each other. I mean… we'd probably have gone on a date after one of us finally got the courage to ask the other out and we'd have had a great time. I just want the chance for us to do, you know, normal things like eating take out pizzas, go stargazing in Gotham Park, catch movies that we talk all the way through or even go out dancing. Of course, we'd also both end up cancelling dates once too often because of work, and we'd probably fight but make up again because of some corny romantic gesture-"

"I am not corny," John scoffed indignantly, even if he knew it was true. "But you're right… I want all that one day, with you. I want to take you on dates and have those domestic moments that we've missed out on. I want to take my time and not worry about wasting a single moment with you."

"You don't regret it though, right?"

"Never," he soothed, his tone firm. His eyes narrowed as he turned to face her properly, lifting her chin and leaning over her so she had no choice but to maintain his gaze. Barbara swore she could have been swallowed whole by those shining portals he called eyes. "It may not have been conventional, but I regret none of what's happened between us. I … I love you, and nothing would have happened to change that."

The gravity of those words was not lost of Barbara. "I love you too," she replied softly, pressing her lips against his greedily.

The feel of his arms around her never lost its appeal. Barbara was almost perfectly content to lie there for the rest of her life, were it not for the fact the world would probably end if she did. There was a warlord to defeat after all.

"John," she whined, trying to wriggle free of his embrace. Of course, his only response was to hold her closer and start peppering soft kisses to the base of her neck. "You play dirty, John."

"Damn right I do," he murmured, each word sending chills down her spine. "Is it working?"

"You know it is."

"Good."

"No. Bad," Barbara giggled as he rolled them over gently so that he was pressing her into the mattress. "As fun as this deep, heartfelt chat is, we have work to do, and places to be-"

John scoffed, barely registering her words as he gazed into her sapphire irises and pulled her leg to rest against his waist. "So?"

"So, when we're late to breakfast and my Dad has to come to check on us and walks into this…"

It worked like a charm, much to Barbara's amusement. John immediately released his grip on her and sat up as if he had been tasered. The look of pure panic on his face only made the situation a hundred times funnier.

"Oh god no," he gasped. "Now who's playing dirty?"

"Is it working?" Barbara shot back innocently. His only response was to frown and steal one last kiss that left her breathless. "Go away and put some damn clothes on."

"As you command."

How she wished she could command his otherwise, but at least this view was enough to make up for it… for now. She chuckled to herself, admiring his toned physique as he made his way about the room, gathering his clothes from the night before.

He chuckled back, rolling his eyes at her blatant ogling. Still, he finished dressing, stealing one last kiss as he slipped out of the door back to his room. "See you at breakfast," he whispered.

"See you at breakfast."

* * *

The day slid by slowly. Far too slowly for Barbara's liking as she and Diane made their way up onto the roof in their latest attempt at getting some space and fresh air.

All-day they had done their best to perform their usual rituals with equal enthusiasm and dedication. Breakfast, dishes, lounging about whilst the Commissioner wore treads into the carpets as he thought through his latest plans. Barbara felt like she could perform the routine blindfolded by now, all these months later. In some ways, it was as if nothing had changed for them.

In others, it was as if the whole world had tilted, aligning itself in a new way with a new order. Batgirl and Black Canary were just a part of those changes. John Blake was another entirely… or so the two girls thought as they lay there together, staring up at the slowly dwindling sunshine above. Soon enough dusk would be upon them and they would be released from this sense of normality.

"You know, of all the things I thought I'd find living in Gotham, a new sister wasn't one of them," Diane began lazily. Her arms were crossed beneath her head in a makeshift pillow, and she looked oddly content lying there on that rooftop. "I also didn't think I'd end up a vigilante in a war-torn city controlled by a dictator in a mask either. So, that goes to show how good my powers of telling the future are."

"Yeah," Barbara whispered, turning her head to observe her. The woman had tumbled into her life all those years again, and who had carved her place in it so determinedly. Diane was right when she said she'd found her sister. A kindred spirit in every single way. "But sometimes surprises are better than knowing exactly how everything is going to work out. A mystery makes life exciting - more so than paperwork and meetings anyway."

Diane sniggered. "True."

"See? We'd have ended up in this situation anyway someday."

"Yeah yeah, you're right. We find trouble," Diane smirked. "Or should I say, trouble finds us?"

"I'd like to think it's a little bit of both."

"Amen to that."

Barbara chuckled at the truth of it. In a way, she felt like she and Diane had been destined to end up here. Together. And honestly? There was no one else she'd have wished to be at her side, no matter how this turned out.

"I just…" she whispered nervously. "With everything that happened between my parents and Gotham being how it is, I'm scared, Di. I… I've never had something like this before, something to care about, something to be scared of losing. You and John…"

"We're not going anywhere, Babs." Diane reached over and took her hand as if to prove it. She held it tightly. "We're both in it for the long haul. Well, I am and John better be considering those puppy dog eyes he keeps giving you else I'm kicking his ass."

Despite it all, Barbara snorted at the thought. Diane would have to get in line behind her father at this rate if it ever came to that - not that she ever believed it would. She knew John too well for that. He was in it just as much as she was.

No one else understood them so completely. They were two halves of one coin, destined to support and balance one another out through all that life could throw at them. Nothing would change that - not even Bane.

"I gave him my heart and I trust him, but I don't know if I can bear it if he breaks it… or if Gotham breaks it for me."

"You have something to fight for," Diane soothed firmly, "to hold on to. Love is a strength, not a weakness Babs."

"You're far too smug about this."

"I'm just smug because I was right," Diane chuckled, making Barbara blush even harder. "You make a great couple."

"Sorry for not telling you the minute we got back, even if I wanted to," she admitted guiltily. "We kind of wanted to savour it being ours for a little bit longer."

"I get that," she teased, nudging her gently with her elbow. "But you still owe me all the gory, soppy details later."

Barbara couldn't keep the smile off her face. "I'll tell you about it all tonight."

For just that moment it felt as everything was normal in the world once again, just the two of them chatting about mundane things like boyfriends rather than war or illegal night escapades as vigilantes.

"You sure you're up for another patrol? I don't want to push you too hard."

"Positive." And she was. There had been a fire in her last night when she'd been out there, back in action. Just look at Stephanie… she was safe because of Barbara. People needed her and the hope she brought with her. Her role was bigger than just the thugs she beat up and the wrongs she righted. "I got shot, but I'm back up and running. I've been absent too long as it is and I couldn't bear Bane getting any more satisfaction from that."

She had tried to put it behind her. With every day the pain and physical reminders faded. It was only her memory that kept the pain and panic alive.

Even the scar had started to heal, albeit into a startlingly white line. A mark to remind her forever of what Bane had done to her. It was also a reminder of what she was going to do to him when they finally got their hands on him, and they would. There was only one way this could all end, and it was with Bane losing.

* * *

The next few days trailed by agonisingly slow. Barbara and the others kept themselves occupied as best they could, which was easier said than done.

Time was running out one way or another. This waiting, this hope for an epiphany did nobody any good and they knew it. The time had come to end this, which was exactly why Barbara was even more irritated than usual.

Diane too had been even more violent that night. Her frustration and panic were as clear as day as she had taken on three guys at one with barely a curse. No witty remark was in sight.

It had been a long night.

"Ow…" Barbara winced as the makeshift ice pack made contact with her bruised shoulder. She groaned and rolled it back in its socket a couple of times. When she was sure that it wasn't going to fall out she got up from the kitchen stool. Her back clicked awkwardly. She was going to be sore tomorrow.

"Told you not to push it."

She turned, shooting him a death glare as she reached out the window to gather more snow for her melting ice pack. "I'll push you in a minute if you keep saying that."

"I'm just looking out for you."

"I know," she sighed sharply. "But maybe you should start looking out for a way to save the city from the bomb that's going to go off any day now. I won't matter if the whole city is dead."

"True," John surrendered, knowing not to push her when she was like this. He knew her well enough by now to know she needed some time cool off before she would be back to her pragmatic self, full of suggestions and ideas of what to do. She was panicking- that's what this was, why she was so desperate to keep herself occupied with whatever task she could come up with, in this case, being Batgirl.

As it was, she looked remarkably ready to hurl the toaster across the room and at his head.

"The plans made it clear to us that the bomb is gonna go off anyway in a matter of weeks."

"Which is why Harvey is here to meet with us and your father," John soothed, taking the ice pack from her and removing it before anyone could see and ask questions about why she needed one. "Why don't we go and join them before you destroy the kitchen… or me."

Barbara rolled her eyes but knew better than to argue. Instead, she took a deep breath and pressed an apologetic kiss to his cheek. "You're right," she whispered, taking his hand. "Sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about."

"Feels like it," she winced, letting him lead her from the kitchen and back out into the hallway. At least he was right about one thing. Seeing the others would be a big help, especially when she knew they were just as worried as she was.

As he was always reminding her, she didn't have to do this alone. There was more than just Batgirl and the Black Canary on hand to save the day. They were a team. It was more than time they started acting like it.

* * *

The meeting went about as well as could be expected considering the approaching deadline and their dwindling support network. Everyone seemed just as eager to act as each other, just confused about which way to do so.

It was starting to drive Barbara mad. She could see everyone felt similarly as they argued for what felt like the hundredth time about making a run at Bane or at the bomb itself. The room felt like it had divided into camps as people drew to sit on their own sides of the living space they had commandeered as their base camp.

"The bomb is going to go off anyway," Barbara snapped, rolling her eyes at the latest suggestion. "We have to make a stand whilst we still can. We only have one shot left. So, we need to find a way to take out Bane's men and get people out of the city before Bane uses the bomb to destroy it. And fight this war before he can distract us anymore with another assault. And eventually, get the bomb itself. Anything else?"

John sat behind her, his own voice carefully casual, "That covers it. As soon as a force can be assembled, we take on Bane."

"The people are nearly ready, as are the people in the tunnels. They're desperate for a fight," Diane added, clearly understanding her partner's intention. They had to take on everything and they had to do it in one swoop if they wanted to win.

"No," John said. "I mean a bigger force. A force not just of us, but from all of Gotham, and the mainland too. Our only decent shot at finding allies in this war." None of them spoke, none of them moved as John said simply, "Tomorrow, we need to rally our people and organise those in the tunnels. It's time we see who stands with us. And make sure they understand the consequences if they don't."

That was the moment the Commissioner chose to rose from his seat. Every eye turned to him eagerly, as if awaiting him to say something profound in return. It was why confusion spread as he turned and marched his way over to the front door without another word.

"Where are you going?" John called, staring at the Commissioner with utter confusion.

"I gotta do something, something I should have done a long time ago."

Barbara blinked in utter bewilderment as she watched her father grab his coat and storm out the front door without so much as a goodbye. She was already on her feet, ready to chase after him when she felt Diane's hand on her arm. "Let him go," she soothed, shaking her head. "Whatever this is, he clearly needs to do it. We owe him that."

"But-"

"I'll go keep an eye on him," Harvey offered sharply, leaving without offering a chance for an argument. At least knowing he was going made Barbara's heart lighten with relief.

She stepped back, letting the closing of the door signal the end of that discussion. Now, that just left the three of them and a hell of a battle to plan.

The weight appeared too much for John as he turned to Barbara, and laid a hand on her shoulder. "For what it's worth, I did actually want to give you a day to rest—"

"Don't coddle me."

He blinked at her defensive tone, smirking a little as he leant in closer. "I'm not. And I'd hardly call our encounter this morning rest. But you will forgive me if I make assessments based on your current physical condition."

"I'll be the person who decides that."

"Of course." Like that, this argument was over. A decision had been made. "We should probably go and check on what your father and Harvey are up to."

"Who knows what trouble they'll get into," Diane chuckled, shaking her head. She was already on her feet and heading towards the door.

That went for all of them. Who knew what trouble awaited them.

* * *

The next morning came around quicker than Barbara had expected it to.

Before she even knew it, they had all made their way solemnly out the apartment and into the icy streets below with only a crazy plan and a shit ton of desperation and determination to see it through.

The wind was stronger than usual - that was what hit Barbara first as she turned her face away from it, choosing to glance at those around her instead as they marched their way onward.

Dear God she hoped this plan worked. It was their only shot right now, and they didn't have any time for another. Hence why the men and women around her were following her father out of faith and loyalty. They had no other assurance this plan would even work, but as she said - this was their last shot and they knew it.

It would account for the tension in the air as they all walked on in silence. No one dared breathe too loud, let alone talk as they stuck to their well-rehearsed routes and kept their eyes peeled for any sign of danger.

Thankfully, there didn't seem to be any - or none they noticed as they hurried on, stopping only once they'd reached the agreed-upon location. On the street corner, right in the middle of Bane's truck's route.

Barbara spared a glance at her watch as she noticed her father doing the same. They were right on time, with a few minutes to spare before the truck and the bomb would be upon them. At least they were here, together.

The fact Miranda Tate had also signed up to this mission seemed baffling but comforting. She was just another eager volunteer as she marched alongside the Commissioner that morning in the fresh snow. She was hanging on his every word as he held a scanning device in his grip, pointing out how it worked.

"As it approaches, flick the switch. If the needle hits 200 you give me the signal I'll mark the truck, ok?" he explained breathlessly, nodding at Barbara and Diane as they made their way past. John followed closely, heading to his perch above.

He was their eyes and ears on this operation - a prospect that left Barbara uneasy. Perhaps he could sense it as he glanced at her, reaching out to squeeze her hand in reassurance. Barbara turned instinctively, smiling softly back at him.

"Do you ever think about what you're going to do when this is all over?"

John's question caught Barbara by surprise as she blinked at him in confusion. " _When_ this is over? Not if? … Someone's optimistic."

"Someone should be."

"And that someone is you?"

John scoffed as he nodded. "Why not? I figured you could be the pessimistic one for a change, and I could be the heroic optimist."

Diane snorted but chose not to comment as she chuckled to herself. Even she could see the irony but it was a kind gesture.

"You? The hero?" Barbara purred, grinning as they approached the designated fire escape he would be positioned upon. "Why not me?"

"Well, we all know you're the slowest. You're also easily distracted, as last night proved."

Barbara flushed as she remembered the night before and how he had distracted her rather thoroughly from sleeping… several times as well.

This was a dangerous line. One John was forcing her to walk to keep from thinking about what they were about to face, about what a wreck they had all become inside.

Anger, flirtation, annoyance … He knew those were her weak points. What they were about to encounter then, about to risk, if he wanted her going in there mad and thinking about sex… about anything but the fact that this was it.

Today was the day they lit the spark.

"Nice try," Barbara sniped hoarsely.

"Keep your eyes open out there, ok?" John pleaded, stealing a soft kiss from her lips. His gloved hands were soft against her cheek as he caressed her, a brief moment of affection.

Barbara just nodded. "And you better promise to stay safe too. No heroics - that's my job."

They shared a weak ironic chuckle before separating to their designated teams. They did have a job to do after all and Gotham wasn't going to just sit around and wait for them to do it. Something they all knew too well as the others around them did the same.

Barbara watched as John jogged past them, leaving her stood with Diane beside her on the curb.

She hadn't said it aloud even if she'd realised it herself. If it came to it, she'd gladly give her life for his. As she'd said the night before, she was perfectly content with that and the time they'd been gifted together - even if Barbara wished with all her soul for more.

But if they couldn't have that… then by God, she hoped she went first. She knew she wouldn't be strong enough to carry on without him, or Diane, or her father for that matter. Living off memories of happier times had been hard enough the past few years, and she didn't know if she could bear to do it in the future.

"You ready?"

Her nervous smile was mirrored by Diane as she turned back towards the road. "Always, partner."

Diane nodded once more at Barbara. Barbara smiled weakly back at her.

"See you in a few."

"You too. Good luck," Barbara breathed nervously in reply. With that Diane turned around, walking away and melting into the street around them. In a matter of seconds, she was no longer visible. Their night time activities clearly had some other uses after all - and just in time too.

"Heads up heads up," John stated, his voice crackling into life over the radios. The soft rumbling of trucks approaching only confirmed his report. As did the subtle nod Miranda gave as a truck passed her by.

Barbara watched across the street with bated breath. She also watched as the two diversions they'd arranged crossed the road, halting the truck long enough for her father to pass and attach the tracker from his grip.

A soft sigh of relief left her lips. So far so good.

Her father made his way toward her, the device already in hand as he nodded eagerly.

"And?" she choked.

"I got it," he replied, "I got it."

The relief was instantaneous. In fact, it almost knocked Barbara sideways to know that their completely hair-brained scheme had worked. It had worked. They now had a better way of following the bomb, ensuring they could actually co-ordinate a response to take it out before it blew them all sky high.

That made all of this worth it. The risk, the fear, the danger. What were they in comparison to the millions of lives they were saving here?

Barbara could have cheered she was so ecstatic. However, Gotham always knew better than to let her have a moment of peace. She hadn't even opened her mouth before she heard it: John's hasty warning over the radio.

"Mercenaries on your 6."

As if on cue, she turned only to see a wall of men approaching. Armed men.

They'd found them.

She knew immediately there was no way she was making it out of this alley. Not as she heard the footsteps of more men approaching from behind. They were penned in, and too severely outnumbered to have stood a chance at fighting back.

Yet, someone had to make it out alive. Someone had to seize the advantage they'd just gained and shut the bomb off before it had a chance to destroy everything and everyone in its wake.

"Run!" she bellowed, praying her voice would carry to those not yet surrounded.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw John curse upon his fire escape, but he did as she bid. Her soul lightened with relief. At least he'd make it through this. At least she'd kept her promise. No matter what happened next, she could face it knowing John was going to survive this… even if she didn't.

Diane also ran but didn't get as far as she was tackled by another armed goon emerging from the shadows and hauled back towards them along with the few other men they'd had positioned about in case this happened.

"Shit," Barbara hissed under her breath, knowing already that this was over.

Her father knew it too. She could see it etched into his pained expression as he whirled toward her, a despaired plea preparing on his lips. But it was ok. She didn't need any apology. She'd made this choice to be here and she'd make it all over again in a heartbeat.

"Let's go!" a gruff voice roared as their captors approached. "Keep your hands where we can see them."

They did as they were bid, albeit reluctantly. All Barbara wanted to do was lash out at the men approaching her, regardless of their guns and numbers. The feeling only intensified as one of them - their leader, she guessed - stepped forward.

"Commissioner Gordon," he declared. "You're under arrest."

"On whose authority?" her father growled defiantly.

The man only seemed to smile harder. "The people of Gotham."


	27. Chapter 26

_**I can't believe we're starting to get towards the last phase of this story. My god. It feels like yesterday I started writing this as a drabble for fun. Now look at it, and it's all because of you people who keep encouraging me and reading this. I'm sorry this took a while, but this chapter was a little elusive for me and with this starting to get towards the end I want to get everything perfect for you.**_

 _ **In other news, I am starting to play around with a possible sequel to this story so please let me know if that's something you'd be interested in or would consider reading. I love hearing from you all x**_

 _ **Thesilentmage**_

* * *

Gordon stared around him with horror.

This was a joke.

This wasn't a trial - unlike they so eloquently put it. This was a mockery. A farce if ever he saw one.

The masses of mobsters, felons, ex-convicts and hoods around him made his blood boil. The fact he personally had put a large portion of them away made him all the edgier as they stared at him like he was about to be a fresh kill. His life's work was unravelling before his eyes.

This wasn't justice. Not by a long shot. He knew it, and the men at his side knew it too. Gordon felt his gut twist, this was terrible.

He'd done this. He'd gotten these men into this. The guilt was chewing him up inside.

His eyes rested weakly on Miranda Tate as they waited. He felt his heart sag at the sight of the poor businesswoman stood here with them. He should never have let her get involved. Maybe Bane would spare her? Who knew? The man was a monster. Why would he develop a heart now of all times?

As it was, his primary concern was his daughter and Miss Lance, both of whom had been torn from their side the moment they'd been marched back inside this citadel of cruelty. Gordon had struggled violently to keep ahold of her, but even he couldn't overpower ten men. He'd tried but failed, glimpsing only her red hair as she disappeared around the corner and out of his sight.

He had no idea where Bane had taken them, or what he'd done with them though he prayed with all his strength it was nothing terrible. At least they hadn't been brought in for this fake trial. That was some small mercy… so small in fact it failed to offer any comfort as he steeled himself, trying to formulate some sort of plan to get them out of here. Alive.

That meant focusing on his primary concern: the idiot with the gavel before him for starters; Jonathan Crane. He belonged in a straitjacket, not a judge's robes.

What was this madness?

The man smiled down at them from his perch on the top of the ex-stock exchange, his glasses hanging halfway off his face. There was madness in his expression that reminded Gordon of the night ten years ago when that lunatic had gassed the whole island. This man was a maniac. A maniac who now had Gordon, and his fellow colleague's lives in his hands.

He was doomed.

* * *

Barbara sat in a ball, staring at the wall directly ahead of her. She had no words to say right now. She was just trying to remain calm, trying to figure out what the plan was for getting out of here. It was just Diane and her after all, trapped in this dingy sub-room. All the while her father and their friends were going through who knew what, and John… well, he was out there, alone in Gotham.

Barbara sighed weakly, rubbing her eyes as she fought the fatigue that threatened her. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd slept properly, which was probably to blame for her current state. She was shattered and right then her whole body felt heavy. Heavy with the weight of fatigue but also the knowledge of what was happening around her.

God. Just once she'd have liked a break. A good turn in fortune to make her feel like she hadn't signed her soul away on some martyrs doomed crusade - and dragged all those she loved down with her.

Diane, for example, shouldn't have been here. In this prison. Tied to her own fate by the thread Barbara had tied there all those months ago. She should have left her out of this, let her remain blissfully ignorant and safe because of it. Now, look at the mess they were in.

She leant back against the cool marble floor, memories of her days in this hell hole flooding back to her. Instead of fighting them, she let them wash over her in a wave. What was the point in fighting anymore when it just ended like this?

Across the room Diane looked at Barbara and paused, trying to determine what to say to her friend. It terrified her how defeated she looked. The Barbara Gordon she knew never went down without a fight, meaning she was struggling to identify the girl before her. The girl who seemed to have given up already.

"Barbara-" she began, slowly standing up from her position by the door. She didn't know what to say.

Barbara sat up slowly, looking at her friend as she spoke. It felt as if she were underwater Diane's words nothing more than distorted garbles. Her lungs felt like they had seized, unable to pump oxygen through them successfully.

If she had had the ability to, she would have guessed she was having some kind of panic attack. If only they'd had time for one. Now was not the moment, and it was that knowledge that paralysed her even more in a neverending cycle.

"Babs, we have to get out of here. Somehow. Bane will be back soon and we need to be gone." Diane looked around her, desperate for something to use. Of course, all their weapons had been taken from them but maybe something had been left here. A pen? A stapler? At this point, she'd take anything she could.

Barbara took a moment to reply; watching her friend as she frantically began a search for something useful. "Diane..." She tried weakly. "Di. Stop-"

There was no point. They were stuck.

Diane looked to her—and Barbara could have sworn fear shone there, and guilt and … some other feeling. Maybe it was why she chose to ignore that remark and instead, school her features into a cold curiosity. "Back in the alley… You told me to run. Why?"

"You're my sister," was all she said. How many times had Diane risked her life to help her? To save her? Of course, Barbara had offered to do the same when she'd needed it. She had resigned herself to her fate, even if she had tried to spare Diane from it also. "I never had one growing up, and I lost Jimmy a pretty long time ago… but since I met you, I've had a sister."

"And you're mine," Diane whispered, crouching beside her. Her hands were ice cold as they clasped at hers, trying to draw Barbara into some form of coherency. "Which is why after putting up with you and your annoying will of steel, and insane sense of bravery, I refuse to let you do this. To just sit here and check out because you got beat again."

Barbara narrowed her eyes at her. "Exactly - again, Di. You said it. Again. No matter what we do nothing changes."

"Nothing? Then what do you call the fact people all over the city have been rising up, spraying our marks on walls? What do you call the fact people have been fed, safe, cared for because of us? What do you call the fact that Bane has been worried about us enough to keep chasing us?"

"Maybe he got bored?"

"Bullshit," Diane snapped fiercely, pulling Barbara's face close enough she had no choice but to stare directly into her shining sapphire eyes. "He wouldn't have come after us like this if he thought we had no power. But we do - _you_ do. Barbara Gordon. The Batgirl. We need both of you right now, as between us and your father's rebellion, we've inspired enough of a revolution that Bane's nervous that something might happen. With 24 hours to go, we have him shaking in his boots. _He_ has the bomb, and yet _he_ is the one scared of us."

Barbara paused. She wanted desperately to believe Diane, to feel some kind of courage or reassurance from what her friend was saying. But she didn't. No matter whether or not it was true, Bane did still have a bomb. A bomb that would detonate in 24 hours and their last-ditch attempts at stopping him had failed.

What was she supposed to do now? They didn't have the time or the support to try and launch some kind of new attack. That had been their shot and they'd missed it. Was it really worth it then, to spend what could be her last hours fighting when she could just spend them in some kind of peace? To go, find John and let their love be enough to comfort them both when it came to facing the end?

"You found your way out before," Diane continued eagerly. "Why not again?"

"That was different," Barbara choked, scared at how her voice cracked to say it aloud. "I had surprise on my side, and Bane didn't have my father down the hall."

Diane rolled her eyes, clearly fighting the urge to argue further. "Then why have you chosen to give up now, when that is _exactly_ why you should be fighting?"

Thankfully, Barbara was saved the task of trying to reply. Instead, the whining of hinges was answer enough for both of them. Apparently, this argument would have to wait. They'd officially run out of time.

The thought made Barbara's stomach drop as she gulped, scrambling to her feet. Her hand reached for Diane's as she pulled her close to her side. They scrambled back away from the figures that suddenly entered their room, even if they both knew they had nowhere to go.

"What do you want?"

Barbara was the first to snarl out a question, staring down each of the three men in turn. It was as her eyes turned to their leader however, that her snarl morphed into something almost feral.

"Good to see you again too, Miss Gordon," Bane smiled sweetly. Even behind his mask, the girls could see his eyes glistening with pleasure as he looked at the two of them, trapped like a pair of rats. Barbara felt ill. "Miss Lance. It's a pleasure to meet you. I have to say I'm a real admirer of your work."

"What a shame then that the feeling isn't mutual," Diane retorted, shaking her head and she finally laid eyes on the man in the flesh.

Bane chuckled. "You _are_ feisty. Good, my reports were true after all. It's more fun this way. I promise - something I'm sure Miss Gordon has informed you of. Then again, perhaps you got to see some of my handiwork for yourself after Miss Gordon made her daring escape: an occurrence that will not be repeated today."

If he was trying to unnerve them it would take more than that. Both Barbara and Diane had been prepared for jibes and snide reminders of their previous failures. Even if they didn't escape today, they'd been through enough that they wouldn't break. They wouldn't crumble and show fear, even if faced with the end. Instead, they'd meet it with courage and dignity.

It was that courage Barbara saw now shining in Diane's eyes and she turned to her partner. Her hand squeezed hers once. They'd face it together, come hell or high water. She just wished she had some way of sparing them this confrontation first.

"You sound awfully confident for a man who felt the need to bring guards with him, just to visit little old us," Diane snubbed sharply. There was something wicked in her grin. Something powerful enough she saw two of the men take an instinctive step backwards. "You must be so proud. You caught two young women. Well done."

"Now, now. You aren't just any women, Miss Lance and we both know it."

"I'm almost flattered."

"You should be," Bane continued, catching them both by surprise. "Such strength and light are rare, especially when born of darkness. I almost respect it and were you not so hell-bent on defending this cesspit of a city I'd commend it. The league would welcome such skill and strength."

"Thanks, but no thanks," Barbara shot back sharply. She laughed at the image of her and Diane in some ninja-like garb, sneaking about the place. Dressing as a human bat was one thing, but this was a whole new level of unusual. She almost missed the days of normality where people were boring and ordinary, and no one wore masks or costumes in the streets. Was that really too much to ask for?

"Yet another foolish decision, Miss Gordon."

"But one I know I can live with."

"For now," Bane echoed, his expression ominous as he gestured to the men behind him. "Come, there's something I think you both should see."

With that, Barbara and Diane once again found themselves being frogmarched down the hallways toward whatever sick game Bane had planned next. Without even seeing it they both knew it was already something they were going to regret - a sentiment that was only confirmed a short moment later.

The steady thrum of voices was the first sign to greet them as the party rounded the end of the corridor. The swarming crowds of people were the second, as the door ahead opened and they stepped into the heart of Bane's dominion.

"Shit."

Well, that felt like an understatement as it suddenly became clear just where on earth they were. Bane's courtroom. They'd wandered directly into the heart of the lion's den, and considering the rabble around them, it was clear who their prey was. No wonder Diane looked over at Barbara with pure panic in her eyes.

They were screwed.

* * *

Considering their fields of study, and future careers, Barbara and Diane had been in many a courtroom in their lives. The sound of a gavel banging, of chairs scraping on marble floorings, and the awed silence that often accompanied a room such as this were all familiar sounds. They were even comforting in a way. Yet, as the pair of them were marched forward, both knew that they were a long way from Gotham's official courthouse.

There was nothing familiar about this sight. There was no jury to be seen, nor a judge of any kind in sleek black robes. Instead, what existed below the balcony they were now stood upon was nothing more than a shambles of a courtroom. A sad theatrical designed to imitate the sacred halls across the city.

It made Barbara's stomach drop as she took it in in all its horrific splendour. Especially when her eyes, at last, made their way around the room and towards the intended sight Bane had wanted them to see.

Now it made sense. Now she knew why he'd spared them long enough for them to be brought here, helpless as they watched the people they called friends, family, and comrades as they fought for their lives. True, it meant that her father was still alive. That was the only comfort to be found as Barbara stifled a cry, hearing as Diane did the same.

"What on earth -?" she began, only to be silenced by Bane's muffled laugh of victory.

"Why, Miss Lance I am surprised. I'd have thought you'd be well aquatinted with a trial by now."

"This is not a trial," she spat bitterly, staring directly into his hollow eyes. "Where is the jury? The representation?"

"They have been granted all that they need to stand and face judgement on behalf of the city."

"Really?" It was now Barbara's turn to laugh, her tone laced with venom as she glanced between her father below and the men around her. "This is on behalf of Gotham? The city these men and women would have willingly laid their lives down to protect? Bullshit. Let's now at least be honest with one another, Bane. I think by this point we've more than fucking earned it. We've earned the right to call this out for what it is. An execution, one designed to please no one but yourself."

If he was concerned by her allegations he didn't show it. Instead, Bane remained frighteningly composed as he watched her rant. "You wound me, considering my benevolence. I didn't want you to miss out on such an event - democracy and justice at its finest."

As if proving the point, he nodded to the guards, who pushed the girls closer to the edge of the balcony railing. From up here, they had a horrifically clear view of the scene below. Had she been able to, Barbara would have run down the last steps and joined the group of frightened men and women below… Stood by their sides like she had sworn to do. Like she had promised her father she would do, no matter what.

Thankfully, their guards pushed them forward, allowing them to make their way down the steps, almost to the bottom. From here the view was worse, now able to see the pain and confusion on the faces in front of them in greater detail as they heard the charges against them. Well, Barbara called them charges but considering they weren't delivered by an actual judge she knew they were nothing more than falsehoods. Jonathan Crane was in no way capable of dealing out justice.

"The charges are espionage and attempted sabotage," Crane grinned, clearly enjoying this role reversal. His voice sounded nothing short of manic as it echoed throughout the vast space, making Barbara's stomach churn in terror. "Do you have anything to say in your defence?"

"No lawyers, no witnesses? What sort of due process is this?" Gordon demanded, refusing to play along.

"More than you gave Harvey's prisoners, Commissioner. Your guilt is determined," Crane shot back, leering down over his make-shift jury bench. It was nothing more than overturned tables and other debris. Mere echoes of what this place had once been. "This is merely a sentencing hearing. What's it to be? Death or exile?"

"Crane, if you think we're going willingly out onto that ice, you've got another thing coming."

"Death then?"

"Looks that way."

"Very well," Crane began, lifting his gavel in his hand. "Death... By exile." Crane smirked, obviously smug with his clever verdict. He banged his gavel down with enthusiasm against the desk, letting the noise fill the room.

A cheer rose up loudly and Barbara felt her blood run cold as pure terror surged through her. The thought of the icy water around Gotham was enough to make her heart pound. No. There was no way her father and the others were going to make it. She felt sick.

She struggled desperately to free herself, to get to her father's side. However, she couldn't. The man holding her was just too strong. The cuffs on her wrists bit painfully into her skin, causing blood to trickle down where the metal cut her.

She heard a chuckle from behind her and felt pure rage surge through her. She was going to kill Bane.

"Dad!" she cried, desperate to be heard above the ruckus that had started. She needed him to hear her. "Dad!" she screamed even louder, struggling against the brute that held her.

Gordon heard it, clear as crystal. The voice calling for him. He turned, scanning the chaos around him for the owner of the voice. Within seconds his weary eyes had clamped on the bright red head of his daughter and the blonde beside her. His heart swelled.

"Barbara!" Her father cried desperately, looking directly at her.

He felt himself sigh. At least there was maybe a chance - a slight chance, but still a chance - that Barbara would make it out of this; even if he didn't. She was strong. She would be fine. She had to be. As he looked at her he tried to show her the love in his eyes. This was their goodbye and it hurt worse than any punishment.

As a man reached for her father's shoulder Barbara felt her pulse increase in panic. She didn't know what to do.

"No! Wait! Stop!" she begged quickly. She heard Diane gasp beside her, obviously trying to understand what was happening. "Stop! Let him go!"

Gordon's heart shattered as he stared at his daughter. He knew her protests were falling on deaf ears. Nonetheless, it still filled him with a small comfort.

However, the loud gavel that banged once again, silencing the madness around him, made his blood run cold. He felt the man who was holding him stop, releasing his grip on him.

"Well well..." came the laugh. Gordon glared at Crane as he began to speak again. "What do we have here? How sweet. A daughter's love. It's touching- really. Shame it's pointless Miss Gordon. Unless you wish to die with your father," he laughed looking at the young girl. She was so small in his eyes. Nothing more than an ant. An ant that had yet to be squished.

Barbara straightened up, staring at the lunatic with a deadly hatred. She opened her mouth to say something in retaliation but never got the chance.

"It seems Commissioner you are to be congratulated on your daughter's loyalty," Bane drawled smoothly, taking a small step out of the crowd. As he did the men around him all took a step backwards, nervous of the powerful warlord. It made Barbara feel a little better to know even his men were afraid of Bane. "I may be a strict man, but I'm not without compassion," he continued. "Who am I to deny the last request of a loving daughter?"

"Bane!" Gordon warned. He knew where Bane was going with this. He wouldn't let that happen. Ever.

"If she wishes to die with her father than she is entitled too. I no longer have any need for her."

"Barbara!" Her father and Diane called in unison. Her father's voice was dripping with pain, and Diane looked terrified. She couldn't lose her best friend. Not like this. "Barbara!" She cried struggling to free herself. It was hopeless.

Barbara paused as the man behind her released her bonds, pushing her towards her father and the men that looked rather worried by the drama. Her wrists were grateful to be released from those damn cuffs, even if she wasn't. It seemed her sentence had been decided for her. She didn't know how she felt.

Thankfully she was spared deciding as she hurried down the stairs and toward her father. He hauled her into his arms and held her so tightly she couldn't breathe. "What were you thinking?" he hissed, even if the sting was softened by the kiss he pressed to her head. "My life isn't worth yours."

"Agree to disagree," Barbara choked, closing her eyes and biting her lip as she felt the sting of tears behind her eyes. Thankfully they stayed put as she stepped back and looked behind her at the friend she had left there.

Apparently, her craziness was infectious, or so she realised as she watched Diane step forward and turn her attention to Crane.

"I... I'm coming too!" Diane demanded sharply, despite the gasp that rose in response.

"What?" Barbara snapped. "No way!"

Crane didn't look like he knew what to do as he blinked, exploding into manic laughter. "I don't know what to say, Miss Gordon."

"I do," she shot back instantly, leaving no room or time for negotiation. "She isn't involved in this. Diane gets to walk free or face her own trial later on her own merits, but she sure as hell isn't one of us."

Bane paused as Crane cackled to himself. Apparently, the drama was as satisfying as he'd hoped it would be, to watch as the chaos unfolded below. "But she seems to so desperately want to be a part of your sorry condemned party."

"But … But we … We don't always get what we want," Barbara stammered, her mind whirling as she hastily tried to think of some excuse, some way to prevent the inevitable. Despite the baffled stares of the people behind her, she knew her father understood well enough. The comforting hand on her shoulder said it all. He knew what she was doing and why. He also knew the pain it was causing inside her, to leave her closet friend in the world behind all in the name of love.

Diane opened her mouth, about to protest her own case when she was stopped by the glare Barbara shot her.

"What I'm saying is, that dying is what she wants. Why grant her any kindness when you've been so cruel so far? Wouldn't the greater punishment be to let her stay behind? A bastard like you wouldn't know kindness if it bit him in the ass."

Barbara waited with bated breath as she watched Crane mull it over. She prayed using his sick sense of justice would work if nothing else. Whilst she couldn't save herself, or her father, she would do anything to spare her sister.

It was clear she had judged him right when she watched him nod a moment later. He didn't think it was odd that she was turning on her own friend. Instead, he was more obsessed with the hypothetical scenario she had presented him and the opportunity it granted him to inflict further pain on the helpless souls in his court.

"Permission denied for Miss Lance!" he bellowed, slamming the gavel down again. The cheer he received was deafening. "She remains here to await her own trial to be carried out at a further time."

Relief filled Barbara immediately. She chose to ignore the utter look of betrayal on Diane's face as she shook her head, struggling to process what had just happened.

Before she even had time to think, her feet had moved, carrying her over to her best friend's side. Her hands were ice as she held them, squeezing them so tight they might break. But no one would take her. No one would break her grip until she had said what she had to.

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. Find Lucius, Miss Tate even - if they're here," Barbara ordered, holding the tears at bay that threatened to escape. "Get them out, find John and get your asses out of Gotham. Just do it. Live, Diane. Live for them, for yourself, for your family and for me."

"No," she growled, holding on tighter as her tears flowed. "I'm not leaving without you."

"You must."

"Bullshit. As if-"

Diane never got the chance to finish. Instead, a hand reached for her arm and pulled her back sharply to the side and away from Barbara's reach. Barbara surged forward as if to hold on, but her own guard made it nearly impossible as he also pulled her back toward the group.

"I love you!" she cried desperately, her voice echoing across space as she kept her eyes on Diane.

"I love you too," she replied, her voice cracking in a way that almost brought Barbara to her knees.

With that, Diane was hauled backwards. She struggled every step of the way as she was dragged, kicking and screaming back towards the gallery where the other prisoners were left to wait for their turns.

It was only as she disappeared from sight that Barbara felt her heart crack with the realisation that it was over. The worst had come to pass. They'd lost… and now they were going to have to face the consequences.

* * *

Across the city, a very different scene was occurring. One of reunification, not separation. After all, it had been months since Bruce Wayne had last been standing here, dead in the middle of the underground bunker he'd called his base.

It had also been months since he had last seen the man stood across the room, eyeing the contents with intrigue. Lucius Fox. Even after living in the heart of the occupation, the man had lost none of his fight or brilliance. That was one blessing Bruce was grateful to have been granted as he'd freed his old friend earlier that afternoon.

It had been sheer luck he had managed to catch the prison guards by surprise as they changed rotations, sneaking in and hauling Lucius out before anyone had noticed. He would return later to finish the job, retrieving both Miranda Tate and the Gordons' party of rebels. he just hoped he wasn't too late.

"One step at a time, Mr Wayne," Lucius had soothed knowingly. The man had regained a certain spring in his step as he entered the shipping container and entered the override codes needed to get them into the subterranean levels. "I apologise," he'd begun when Bruce had looked at him accusingly. "I let the new owners change the voice activation system and passwords."

"Why am I not surprised? Did you also roll out the red carpet whilst you were at it?"

"Almost," Lucius smirked, "but not quite."

The password hadn't been the only thing that had changed in his absence, a fact Bruce realised as he finally stepped off the platform and into the room beyond.

His eyes clapped onto the scene before him, so different to when he'd last seen it. It was impossible to miss it really; everywhere he looked traces remained of the surprise visitors that had taken up residence here. Every nook and cranny of the place seemed to have some echo of them, an imprint of the months they'd spent down here. Months he'd spent wallowing in the middle of nowhere while Gotham had been subjected to hell on earth. Well, that ended here and now.

Bruce would be damned if he let one more moment pass with Bane in control of his city, his home. First Ras and now Bane. Damn it. The league of shadows was a thorn he'd borne in his side for too long and now Gotham was paying the price… as were the brave souls who'd risen up from the darkness to defend it in his absence.

A scoff of impressed surprise escaped his lips as he pressed a button on the desk in front of him. A whine behind him signalled the rising glass cases in which several sets of his gear had been stored. His surprise came from the rather obvious new additions to the collections.

So much smaller in comparison to his bulky armour, the suits were remarkable… to think who had been filling them… He couldn't quite believe it. After all, he'd spent years watching her grow from a baby to a curious child, to a young woman full of as much passion and courage as her father. Barbara Gordon had always been the apple of her father's eye, but unlike most fathers, Bruce knew that Gordon's faith had never been misplaced. She truly deserved every ounce of awe and respect he gave her, surpassing every expectation set for her.

Now, it appeared she'd done it again. Who was he to have predicted the woman she would become? The heroine that would await him on his return?

Gotham never failed to surprise him, and neither did the Gordons. They were apparently as much a package deal as he was.

"You've let people play with my toys?" Bruce asked, shooting Lucius a smug grin as he heard the man approach.

"What can I say? I found two worthy candidates in need of a friend… They're incredible, Mr Wayne."

"I'd say they are." He smiled ever so slightly as he reached down and helped himself to the device in front of him. A soft whine told him it was ready as he slipped it onto his newly healed wrist and adjusted to its weight. "But I think they've struggled long enough alone. Now it's time I do my part."

* * *

Barbara had never really thought about how she would die. Odd, considering where she lived and the unusually high death rate that followed Gothamites wherever they went. Still, despite all the danger she had never really taken the time to consider how she'd want to go. Maybe at home, warm in bed with someone she loved. Or suddenly, so she had no time to know it was coming. Either way, drowning to death on an icy river had never been at the top of her list.

A gulp escaped her lips as Barbara marched her way down the silty riverbank, feeling the grit churn beneath her feet as she faced that prospect. Every step took her closer to the grey ice sheet that had been the raging river not so long ago. Now, just like the city it surrounded, it had become frozen in time. Unmoving, and unchanging, trapped in a state of despair.

"Get going!" a mercenary ordered, firing his gun loudly over his head.

Barbara tried not to wince as the sound of gunfire filled the air around them, ricocheting off the concrete arch overhead that formed the base of the bridge. She instead clenched her teeth, looking at her father with a sad smile. If she was going to die, at least it would be together with her family. Side by side to the end, just as she'd always promised she would be. If only she'd had a chance to say goodbye to her Mom and brother, to apologise for all the years of tension and pain that had existed between them.

Well, who knew? Maybe they would make it across the ice back to civilisation and she'd be able to say it herself in person- there was always a chance, but Barbara knew better than to count on it. She knew deep inside the likelihood was that it would never happen. The temperatures had been waning too much in the past weeks for the ice to be as solid as it once was. That, and the distance was immense on foot. It could take hours, and the cold and the dark would probably take them first if they didn't misstep and find a weak spot.

As if sensing her sudden dread her father's gloved hand encased hers, an obvious gesture of comfort. It was odd, she had to admit it made her feel just a little better, just as it always had. Whether it was walking her to her first day of school, or as they stepped onto the Gotham Park ice rink at Christmas… he had always been there right beside her. Even now, facing death, he would walk beside her every step of the way.

Barbara took a deep breath and tried to steel her nerves.

She watched as her father took a small hesitant step forward, placing his weight uncertainly upon the ice sheet. She heard a worrying crack as the ice shifted, but then it seemed to settle. With a deep breath, Barbara followed suit, treading across the ice. At least the roaring winds drowned out any more creaks and groans from the ice beneath her boots.

All around them she could see the others following their lead. She could only pray this was over quickly for all their sakes.

Still, no one let their nerves show as they continued onwards, a few steps at a time. The ice continued to crack under the weight, but they stuck together in small pack like formations, making sure one another was following and keeping pace. They walked a little further until Barbara saw her father stop.

She watched as he stared at the ice around him as if trying to place something. "Dad?"

She got no answer. Instead, she watched as his gaze came to a halt. Whatever he'd been looking for, he'd found it as his back stiffened, like a predator who'd just caught a scent. His eyes widened as he noticed what was lying there in front of him.

Barbara raised an eyebrow. "Dad?" she repeated, watching as he reached for whatever was waiting on the ice. As he held it, it became clear to all what it was. "What the…"

"Light it up," came the raspy voice that filled their hearts instantly with joy as they'd never felt before.

Barbara watched as her father did as he was instructed, dropping the now lit flare to the ground, igniting a trail of liquid that she hadn't noticed before then. She stared as it burst into roaring red flames, shooting along the ice within seconds and climbing up the side of the bridge. A moment later there it was- burning for all to see- the Bat symbol.

Even from here on the water, Barbara could feel the heat as the symbol burned brightly over Gotham, once more letting them know the truth; There was still life in this city. There was still a fight left within their hearts.

The Batman was back.

Barbara looked back down from the skyline, eyeing the silent figure beside here with curiosity. Somehow her silent pleas for re-enforcements hadn't gone unheard by whatever deity existed up in the heavens.

However, that wasn't the only source of awe as she felt her jaw drop, her eyes wide as she stared at him in the flesh. She'd never seen the Batman up this close before. Not since that night years ago with Dent, when he'd saved her life. Even on the roof months ago, he had been at a distance on top of the roof.

But now… he seemed older than she remembered. More pained. That was the first thing she noted as she let herself bask in his glory, savouring the joy it brought to her heart. His eyes were dark, yet there was a faint light. The flames reflected off his pupils as he watched and she knew that look. It was determination.

She smiled.

"Miss Gordon," he began, catching her attention. Barbara paused in surprise.

"Yes?" she asked quickly.

Batman extended a gloved hand towards her, opening it to reveal something inside.

Barbara looked down in surprise to see a scrap of paper nestled in the vigilante's hand. She wasn't sure what to say regarding his peculiar reaction. What was it?

She reached forward hesitantly and took the paper, opening it. She couldn't help but smile privately as she saw what it said.

On it in pencil was a single word; Courage. Next to it was a small image that wanted to make her laugh with utter relief. A bat. He'd actually drawn a bat?

She glanced up and saw that he was staring at her with what seemed to be an expectation.

He was waiting for her answer.

She looked at him and nodded. She got the message.

He knew it. Her secret. He knew she was Batgirl. It filled her with a momentary panic, but she didn't care. She also got the other message. Batgirl was needed. He didn't need to worry- Batgirl was here.

The fact he knew who she was - really- wasn't a surprise to her. He was Batman. Of course, he knew, just as she had worked out his identity all those years ago. Like called to like after all. His soft smile beneath the cowl was her only other clue, but she said nothing more about it.

"Thanks," she replied after a moment, scrunching the paper back up and shoving it in her coat pocket. She looked back at the flaming bat signal that burned in the skyline, a new surge of faith burning inside her. It wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

Batman nodded silently in understanding at her. He was glad she had gotten the message, come tomorrow he would need every hand he could get, but it didn't matter right now. He had bigger concerns. For instance the mad man still at large in his city, and the nuclear bomb that he had at his disposal.

"Miss Gordon, I need to borrow you." Bruce looked around him, handing a device towards the Commissioner. "And you'll need this Commissioner. This blocks the remote detonator signal to the bomb," he began quickly, explaining to the confused looking man. Gordon took the device and stared in disbelief. "Get it into the truck by sunrise. They might hit the button when it starts."

"When what starts?" Barbara asked, not being able to refrain herself.

Bruce growled his answer. "War."


	28. Chapter 27

_**It lives... and considering the hectic start to another year of university, working two jobs and running the university magazine that is saying something. Still, as if I could leave you wonderful readers hanging after your support. I can't believe how close we are to finishing this story, even if I am playing with a sequel at the moment. I really want to get these last chapters right, which is also why there was a bit of a delay on this one. To everyone who has read this, followed it, favourited or reviewed... THANK YOU! I don't care if you read this when it first went up, or only just found it today. Each and every one of you has made this an incredible experience and your love and support have inspired me beyond words. I couldn't write over 100,000 words without it XD**_

 _ **Anyway, we still have some chapters to go so it isn't over yet. Please let me know what you think or even just say hi. I really appreciate it. Till next time,**_

 _ **Thesilentmage x**_

* * *

Barbara Gordon had now stared death directly in the eyes several times in her short and eventful life. The fact she had now survived once again to live the tale left her shuddering.

The morning sun was beginning to rise in the sky and she realised with startling clarity she had very nearly not been around long enough to witness it - the new dawn on Gotham's horizon.

Maybe that was why she faltered mid-step, stopping long enough on the edge of a pile of rubble to stare out across the bay and let it wash over her. The world slowed around her. For one moment she chose to forget where she was and the sense of impending doom that hovered around her shoulders. This was what she was fighting for now… the light ahead. The light that would wash over them all if they succeeded here today.

That was a big if, though. Something Barbara was reminded of as she heard a gruff voice call her name. Her attention returned to the mysterious figure striding ahead of her.

Bruce Wayne. The Batman was here, in the flesh. Part of her still didn't quite believe it was true. How could it be after so many months hoping and praying? Now he'd suddenly reappeared from the shadows with barely an explanation as to why and she was supposed to just be ok with that - easier said than done.

"Do I get to ask where the hell you've been this whole time?"

"No."

"Ok," Barbara sighed, and not for the first time. "Roger that then, Mr Wayne."

He growled under his breath in protest at her use of his name. At least he was reminded she knew who he was, that his mask and posturing did little to intimidate her. She had been running this gig for some time now and quite successfully too, she would add.

No wonder he and her father had got on so well. They were almost identical in their no-nonsense manner and almost blunt tones. She could only imagine how much fun their meetings must have been - not.

Still, she didn't have a lot of choices here. He had just saved their asses again, something that was rapidly becoming a habit for the Gordons'. He also seemed to be the only one with some kind of plan. For that and that alone, she followed him faithfully, hurrying with him across Gotham as he explained the honestly baffling scheme and her role to play in it.

On one hand, she was astounded her father had let her go with him in the first place. Then again, he probably thought her safer away from the action. The fact Bruce hadn't quite told him her exact role was probably for the best. That, and he'd said he'd ensure his daughter got away before the violence started.

In a way, he was keeping his promise. Barbara Gordon wouldn't be the one returning to the heart of this. Batgirl would be taking her place - an exchange Barbara was happy to make as she struggled to keep pace as they hurried down the decrepit street. She could use a little confidence and strength right about now.

"Do I also get to ask why you chose to come back now?"

"Nope," Bruce barked, gesturing instead to the vehicle that until now hadn't been visible. Yet, as Barbara rounded the corner of the street she felt her heart stop in disbelief. The vehicle in front of her was the thing of legends, seen only on old newsreels as it had flown through the sky. The Bat. "Get in."

"Seriously?" she choked, trying and failing to hide her smile. However, she had more pressing issues to worry about before she just allowed herself to be drawn into some crazy mission with Batman. "What about John? John Blake?"

"He's going to be fine," Bruce replied simply, still striding into the darkness and around to the other side of the Bat. All the air in her lungs vanished on cue, as relief crashed into her like a tidal wave. She didn't realise how much she'd needed to hear that.

"And what about Diane?"

"Miss Lance is with the others," Bruce replied again, this time turning to face her over his shoulder. Despite his serious exterior, she saw the sympathy in his eyes. He knew what it was like to care about someone in danger, but still have a job to do. "My partner's getting them now. She'll bring them to the location - we need to hurry and meet them if we're to stand even the slightest chance of pulling this off."

"She? You mean Selina by any chance?"

Bruce smirked but nodded. Apparently, Barbara had been right with her suspicions after all. The cat really had lost her claws if she had agreed to help the Batman, but considering her charitable streak these past few months it wasn't that much of a surprise. Merely a comforting confirmation… if she didn't know better she'd have also sworn Bruce had smiled as he'd said it.

Had the cat got his tongue?

"You might want to change first," Bruce smirked, startling her from her thoughts. She looked up, watching as he dropped into his seat. He then chucked a duffel bag towards her.

Barbara knew immediately what was inside without even having to open it. "Thanks," she nodded, catching it and unzipping it. The glint of her armour in the streetlamp sent her heart racing.

"Thank me later."

And she would. But for now, Barbara did as she was instructed, clambering up the side and dropping into the passenger seat. They had places to be and a city to save.

* * *

Thankfully, the ride was short even if exhilarating. Barbara had barely buckled herself in before she was lurched back against her seat, The Bat earning its name as it rose off the ground and began to swoop its way over Gotham.

In another lifetime she'd have enjoyed the ride over the city: the adrenaline pumping, her eyes wide as she took in the city below in all its glory like some giant. However, this was not that lifetime. Instead, she was too preoccupied with trying not to throw up and with the mission they had ahead of them.

Thankfully, only a handful of moments later, she was marching her way across the street. Back on Gotham soil and back in Batgirl's armour… she felt invincible.

"Next time, I get to drive."

"Next time?" Bruce scoffed, rolling her eyes at her. Apparently, he hadn't expected her to be so fiery. "Who said anything about next time?"

"I am. I'm just saying it in case. I doubt you need a license or anything considering it isn't even registered."

"It isn't a car," he protested, almost a little defensively.

Barbara laughed. However, it died on her lips as they made their way around the corner of the street. Bruce's hand rose, stopping her dead in her tracks. The look on his face said it all. The time for laughing was later.

"Follow my lead," Bruce growled.

It was official. She much preferred having a partner like Diane with her witty remarks and dazzling smiles. She doubted Bruce was about to make some comic book-worthy joke. Still, she didn't have time to complain. Not when she finally turned the corner.

Her steps faltered as she dropped down the rocky slope and finally saw why they'd come here.

"John," she choked, the word escaping her like she'd been punched in the gut.

There, just ahead of them, was none other than John Blake, kneeling in the powdery snow… surrounded by armed men.

It made her blood run cold as she finally realised what she had to do. Why Bruce had brought them here: he was honouring the words he'd said to her earlier. John was going to be fine - even if Barbara and Bruce had to ensure it themselves.

The gun clicked, arming itself as it was pointed at his head.

Then, they struck.

Barbara didn't need instruction. In fact, the pair of them were mere shadows as they flew through the darkness and descended onto the men. Menacing apparitions, cloaked in midnight and shadows.

There was no warning. There was no mercy. Just fists, and elbows, and cries as the mercenaries found themselves surrounded and being picked off by the Bats like they were nothing more than gnats.

Barbara could feel John's eyes on them, watching in awe at their skill. He didn't move, still paralysed in disbelief and fear of what he had almost witnessed - the fact he had stared death once more in the face. Yet, around him, they moved. The mask, the capes, their synchronicity and power… Then quiet.

It was like nothing he'd ever experienced.

One of the Mercenaries moved slightly.

"You missed a spot."

Barbara rolled her eyes, turning to let Bruce have the honours. A swift boot to the head soon saw the man back on the ground and unconscious, leaving the three of them free to talk.

However, if either Barbara or John were expecting some sort of emotional greeting or reunion with the masked billionaire, they were to be sorely disappointed. It was obvious by now Bruce was not one for small talk, or emotion of any kind, let alone right then. The ears of his cowl cast a particularly ominous shadow and despite knowing who it was beneath the mask, both of them felt a shudder run down their spines. It was hard sometimes to remember that beneath all this they were still only human.

"If you're working alone," Bruce suddenly growled, turning and staring at Blake, "wear a mask."

John blinked. He was visibly stunned as he tried to process the last five minutes. "No one cares who I am."

"Well that isn't true," Barbara replied hastily.

She was about to reach out a hand but he didn't need it. He rose to his feet, the pull too great to ignore as their arms wrapped around one another, holding them as tight as they could. Barbara swore her heart suddenly ached as she felt his lips against her head, the soft scent of his jacket overwhelming her. It was suddenly like the world had dissolved around her.

Their kiss was passionate if brief. "Thank God you're alright. I was so worried. I can't lose you."

"Hey," John whispered, "I think that's my line."

"See?" Bruce continued, softening his tone slightly as he gestured between them both. "The mask is not for you. It's to protect the people you care about."

He had a point. Then again, it wasn't as if a mask had ever spared any of them pain. It had, however, brought the three of them all together, something Barbara remained grateful for as she held John's hand in a death-like grip. He made no move to pull away though or let her go. In fact, had Barbara had her way they'd never let one another go again. She could still see the wonder and disbelief etched into John's face though.

"Huh. And you always seem to know where those people are. How is that?"

Barbara had been meaning to ask Bruce that very same question since the moment he'd shown up on the icy lake. Apparently, she wasn't the only one with unanswered questions. Her eyebrow rose as she turned her head, smirking across at him.

"I lost someone once," Bruce began. A hint of sorrow laced his otherwise menacing growl. "Since then I break into their homes when they're sleeping and implant a tracking device on the back of their neck."

Blake immediately chuckled. However, Barbara reached up to the small slither of skin on her neck exposed by the edge of her cowl. Was it her imagination or did she feel a slight lump, like scar tissue?

They both stopped laughing.

Before either of them could say anything else Bruce turned again. He paused, tossing what looked like a small glowing orb into John's hands. The green light was enough of a warning without his instructions.

"Count to five and throw."

Barbara and John shared an equally confused look as John did as he was told. The grenade sailed through the air and exploded in a disappointingly pitiful puff of smoke against the wall of rubble.

"Uh, no offence but you got anything bigger in that tool belt of yours?"

Of course, he had to ask. A deafening whir was the immediate response as lights hit them, The Bat hovering its way to the head of the street. It was hard to miss its impressive size and canons… pointed directly behind them.

Barbara suddenly knew what was about to happen.

"Duck!" she cried, pulling John to the side as a roaring boom echoed behind them. Dust and rubble-filled the air like macabre confetti, but the gaping hole that had appeared in the centre of the pile was a sight both needed to see.

He'd cleared the tunnel.

Within minutes there was nothing left of the barrier. Dozens of weary cops emerged, staggering into the icy night air, shooting the three of them confused and relieved looks of gratitude. It was still an odd feeling to Barbara, being looked at like she was some saviour. These were people she'd spent her whole life looking up to. The role reversal was enough to make her head spin, and her heartache.

They were all skinny and ragged, half-starved from their ordeal, but they looked fit enough to fight - and mad as hell. Good. They'd need that rage. Barbara could feel her own still burning deep inside her, just waiting for a chance to be unleashed.

Bane hadn't a clue what was coming for him.

"What now?" John barked. He'd taken the words right out of Barbara's mouth.

"An all-out assault on Bane," Bruce answered, "but you need to be responsible for getting people across the bridge."

"Why?" It was Barbara who asked this time, already knowing the worst without even hearing it aloud.

There was no softness or dumbing down as Bruce answered honestly. She could see the remorse in his eyes though as if he wished to spare them the thought of the worst possible scenario. "In case we fail. We need an exit strategy. John, save as many lives as you can."

"You don't need me here?"

"You've given me an army - now, go."

Yet, he didn't run away immediately. Instead, John stopped. He sighed and smiled as best he could - which Barbara knew was harder than it looked. It was clear he had more he wanted to say, but time wasn't on their side. Instead, he chose a simple, "thanks."

Bruce blinked. "Don't thank me yet."

'Well, I might not get a chance later."

He was right, and it hit Barbara harder than she expected it would. Even if Bruce was able to stand there and turn away like this was any other goodbye, Barbara couldn't.

She'd turned before she even realised, cradling John close. There was no one to see as the last of the men filed past and out of sight. Bruce was already shepherding them wherever the hell he planned for them to go. Whether that was a kind gesture on their part, or simply strategic they couldn't be sure, but they both had their suspicions. His fleeting look of sympathy was enough of a giveaway.

Did he have anyone he wanted to say goodbye to? To protect and fight for? It was a harrowing prospect as she realised the loneliness of their masked saviour. He really did walk alone, whereas Barbara had always had someone beside her. It was a detail she'd taken for granted, but she felt its effect all too keenly now.

It was suddenly too quiet. Only the wind whistling past filled the silence as both John and Barbara suddenly felt the reality of this moment. Barbara wasn't ready for another goodbye. She didn't know if she'd survive this one.

"John?"

"Babs?"

Even in the silence, he whispered her name. It was so soft. It was as if he was praying, clinging to this moment with all he had.

"I just… I mean… we…" For once, she had no words. None felt right for now. None felt good enough to capture the magnitude of emotions swirling inside her. How was she supposed to say the hundreds of things she wanted to the man she loved?

God. That thought was still powerful enough to knock the breath out of her lungs. Barbara had always been careful, keeping her heart close to her chest throughout the years. Why wouldn't she? She'd seen enough heartache and misery through those around her growing up. If a man as good as her father couldn't guarantee a happy ending, then why the hell would she? Apparently, fate had heard her.

"It's ok," John whispered. He could see the panic in her eyes. For once, he was happy to take the lead. "Just listen to me… I've been working around criminals and roaming these streets my whole life. I've seen things you couldn't imagine, and things I'd prefer you didn't. I don't exactly have a reputation for being a thinker - as you know. I'm a hothead. I follow my gut, and I make a lot of mistakes, a lot of wrong calls. All my years and there's only one thing I've ever been sure of; I knew it the moment I saw you in that office… it's you, Barbara."

His hands may have been as cold as ice, but Barbara swore her skin burned as they touched her cheeks. His forehead pressed against hers.

"Look, I'm not asking you for anything when I say I love you. I love what you are. What you do. How you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity what you are. You're Barbara. You're Batgirl… You're the one, Barbara. For me and for Gotham."

Barbara sniffed, trying to hold it together as she held him tighter in her grip. "You're the one for me too, John Blake," she whimpered, only wishing they had more time. There was so much she still wanted to say. "I love you so much."

"And we'll be able to say that a thousand times over when this is all over."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, John. Don't do that to me."

John paused, his tone firm as he replied fiercely, "We will make it out of this, Babs. I swear it to you. You have to hold onto that, and fight for us."

She nodded. It felt easier to hold onto something solid, something simple. Them. She was fighting for them as well as every soul on this island that called Gotham home. Even through her tears, she glanced up, committing his face to memory.

She'd take him with her. Whether as a reminder or as comfort should this not work out… Barbara immediately quashed that idea in its tracks.

She wiped her eyes. She could do this. John was right… they'd find their way back to each other.

"Ok," she sighed eventually. One last kiss was all they had time for as she heard her name being called. Bruce didn't have much patience and neither did the bomb that awaited them. "Let's win this war."

It was then she said her hardest goodbye, and the word never even crossed her lips.

She didn't have the strength to look back once she'd turned away. Instead, her heart ached as if sensing the loss it was now facing. This was one goodbye Barbara Gordon would not allow to be permanent. Come hell or high water, she was making it back to John… no matter the cost.

* * *

The smell hit her first, as did the sight of piles upon piles of garbage as far as she could see. In truth, if Barbara had thought Selina's previous dive had been bad, this was a whole new level. Then again, that was the whole point. No one would risk the stench of the garbage long enough to go poking around and find the secret container Bruce had squirrelled away.

Apparently, that was why they were here, rather than in the city centre. Whatever he had squirrelled away was of some importance, or so he had explained as they leapt from the Bat and hurried toward the middle of this garbage empire.

Then she saw it. A glimmer of shining blonde hair. Barbara felt her heart stop as the voice filled the air. There was no mistaking it.

"Diane?" she whimpered, bolting around the corner. Her heart seemed to know her location long before her brain did. "Di?"

"Barbara!"

It was then she felt a single tear escape her eyes as she saw her best friend stood there, grinning ear to ear and dressed in her gear. God. She was glad to see her. She was even more glad to leap into her arms and prove that this was definitely real.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine. Completely fine - you?"

"I'm ok. So is my Dad. We're all ok, thanks to Bruce."

The questions fired between them like a machine gun, peeling in a hasty barrage. Yet, neither complained as they tried to process it all in the little window of time they had been gifted to do so.

Diane was somehow here, alive, in one piece. How on earth had she managed that? Or to be more precise, how had Bruce managed it? Considering the last time Barbara had seen her friend she had thought she wouldn't live long enough to see the sunrise, let alone her… she was at a loss for words.

Apparently, not everyone was, though. "Cat got your tongue?"

Barbara laughed at the voice. So, that was how they'd managed this. "Selina," she beamed, turning her head toward their other surprise guest. Of course, she looked a lot less enthusiastic at their reunion, but even Barbara saw the ghost of a smile flicker across her lips as she leant against the wall and watched the two overly emotional girls. For the briefest moment, Barbara almost thought she was about to get a hug… almost. "How did you two even get out?"

"We haven't got a lot of time for questions, Babs," Diane shrugged, but the reluctance was clear on her face. "I wish we did, and I wish we had more time to celebrate being together but that's a story that can wait till later. Right now, we have bigger things to worry about."

Be that as it may, Barbara was still overwhelmed by her friend's reappearance. It was enough to banish all thoughts of Bane for just a moment. How was she supposed to talk war tactics when they were both openly weeping like schoolgirls It was why she allowed Bruce and Selina to begin whatever tactical conversation was related to their being at a garbage dump.

Barbara and Diane left them to it, choosing instead to carry on their own reunion for the few blessed moments they were granted.

The reunion was brief, if emotional. Neither girls seemed to have the words to express even a tenth of their feelings as they cradled each other close, holding on to their sister as if their lives depended on it.

"I'm so sorry," Barbara whispered again, not even caring how tightly Diane was crushing her. "I had to make sure you got out of there in one piece."

"And I did," Diane sniffed, pulling back long enough to wipe the tears away from her eyes. "Just when I thought we were all out of miracles, and here we are… Gotham really does know how to keep us on our toes."

"It's exhausting."

"I know," she grinned, the pair of them erupting into delirious laughter. "But we're so close. One more push, Babs. Then we can rest. Then we've won…"

If only it felt like that. There was no victory to be had here today. No. Today was about survival, plain and simple. Just like it had been for the past three months.

It was why Barbara took a deep breath. She steeled her nerves, trying her best to channel the stoicism she'd seen her father demonstrate so efficiently time and time again. That was the real mask she wore, not this theatrical cowl - though it did the job it was intended to. No. The true mask was the confident and fearless facade Barbara wore both day and night.

Even now, her insides squirmed like eels yet her face betrayed none of it. Not a single hint of fear or trepidation. This was the face she wanted the world to see when she strode out onto the streets today: the face of a woman prepared to do what she had to do, to stand up for both herself, her fellow Gothamites and the city itself.

With these friends around her, how could she fear anything? True, their harebrained scheme involved Diane and Selina being on the other side of the city, and not in the fray of it all, but Barbara carried her friend's spirit with her. She wouldn't be alone. Not when she had all of Gotham behind her.

"We can do this."

"Yes," Diane chorused, squeezing her hand one last time so hard that Barbara felt the bones popping. "We can."

"Batgirl and the Black Canary, to the rescue - again."

One day she'd tire of hearing that, but today was not that day. In fact, there was a new found spring in both their steps as they turned back toward their other accomplices and tried to organise their chaotic plan of attack as best as possible.

Bruce's choice of location became immediately apparent as they finally saw the contents of the secret container behind them. His intentions became even clearer as he reclarified their intentions. He made it all sound rather simple. Then again, of course, it was easier said than done considering Selina was visibly unenthused by the prospect of wading deep into the heart of a war.

"We have 45 minutes to save the city," Bruce sighed, gesturing towards the two pretty impressive looking motor bikes. Barbara was only jealous she wouldn't be getting to ride one of them today. They definitely put their old ones to shame.

"No, I have 45 minutes to get clear of the blast radius," Selina sniped, settling into the seat and resting her hands on the throttle. "Cause we don't stand a chance against these guys."

"With your help, I might."

"I'll open that tunnel then I'm gone."

"There's more to you than that," Bruce whispered firmly, glancing directly at her before at the girls.

"Sorry to keep letting you down." Barbara couldn't help but think she meant it too. Selina was a more complex character than she'd let on. Something inside her clearly fought the overwhelming instinct to simply run away and never look back… as if some siren's call kept her tethered to this city, and to the man before her. "Come with me. Save yourself. You don't owe these people anymore. You've given them everything."

"Not everything. Not yet." He turned back to them, keeping his face neutral as he barked his orders at a confused looking Diane. "You and Selina can take the south tunnel, then I need you to help get people out. Get people away from the fighting, and help those who are fighting."

"Sure," Diane nodded, even if Selina's face soured. She made her way to the second bike that sat there waiting, easing herself on as Selina pulled down her goggles and revved the engine menacingly. "I can cat-sit."

Selina hissed. That was more like the Selina that they'd come to know and love. "Cats usually eats birds. Remember that, Canary."

"Well, you remember that I have bigger things to be afraid of than you, Selina."

Barbara began to grin, smirking under her breath. Maybe not all hope was still lost after all. "Be careful - see you on the other side."

It went without saying but Diane smiled back at her. "See you on the other side, Red."

With that, they were gone. A rev of engines, a cloud of dust and debris echoing in their wake. Now it was up to Barbara and Bruce to carry on the next stage of the plan.

Great. What could go wrong?

* * *

"You know this is pretty crazy, right?" Barbara piped up. Considering that, at that moment in time, she and Bruce were both flying head first, unauthorised, into the middle of a war zone, 'pretty crazy' seemed like a pretty accurate way of putting it.

Bruce didn't say anything for a moment, but Barbara knew she was right when she thought she saw him smirking. She also knew she was right when she thought he suddenly sped up, just to make her smile more.

He flew downwards sharply, dipping between two skyscrapers and around with immense precision. Barbara hadn't even seen them coming, but Bruce seemed light years ahead. Almost as if he was wired into the jet himself he skilfully soared out of the way, and further into the city.

"Hang on!"

"What else am I going to do?"

A small squeal of panic escaped Barbara's lips as her stomach dropped, the harness digging into her armour. She was suddenly reminded of being on a rollercoaster as they dipped downwards at the pavement before suddenly pulling back up and swerving around the skyline… and right into the heart of it.

The sea of blue bodies was breath taking. Police officers, stood side by side, in direct opposition to the mass scattered in the streets and on the steps of city hall with their tanks.

Barbara whooped as they dived, their cannons readying. She was already on the trigger before she even heard Bruce cry, "fire."

With that, the tank sparked, shattered by the shot Barbara had skilfully aimed at it. And who said video games wouldn't come in handy some day?

The roaring cheer from the street below was deafening, even from inside the cockpit as they pulled back up into the sky. The charge had begun, and by the time Barbara glanced back down the street had become one swirling mass of bodies and gunfire.

She needed to get down there. She needed to help them, the men and women fighting with their lives for the city they loved so much. "We need to land."

"I know."

Bruce clearly shared her thoughts as he drifted them behind the buildings around them, headed toward an empty patch of parkland. It was the only place to land properly, the engine hardly even off as Barbara ripped off her harness and leapt down onto the pavement below.

The icy wind was harrowing as she gasped, letting it hit her directly in the face. It was now or never. They were the words echoing round in her mind as she shared one last look across at Bruce.

"Let's win this thing."

"For Gotham," he echoed firmly. She couldn't have said it better herself.

"For Gotham."

* * *

Rounding the corner, the sound became deafening. Gunfire. Screams. Explosions.

Bruce had been right. This was war… no other word could ever come close to describing the carnage.

Her pace increased, till she was sprinting into the fray of bodies. Her heart raced and the adrenaline was all that kept her upright as she struggled to take it all in. The whole world felt as if it were in slow motion, blurring as she charged.

Her body was acting on its own. Punching, kicking, taking down anybody she could who she knew wasn't on their side.

All around her were people… her people. Ordinary men and women, dressed in blue… the people she had seen fighting their whole lives alongside her father, and now her. That was enough to spur her on, beyond the adrenaline and fury that blazed in her bones.

She noticed how they watched her, drew from her as they suddenly seemed to fight back stronger. Harder. With a greater determination and courage.

She was no longer Barbara Gordon. She was the Batgirl - the icon leading the fight in the daylight, just as she had been every night since this started. Let them see her, she thought. Let them see the emblem on her chest and know… know that this city was strong and brave, and full of people unafraid to protect what was good and right.

A snarl ripped its way from her throat as she turned and unleashed a blow to the nearest assailant, a whirlwind of black armour and fiery red hair.

What had started as a one-woman mission had grown into this. A movement. An army rebelling against the men who had sought to oppress them.

"For Gotham!" she screamed again, her words carried on the wind and repeated louder and louder with every person who heard them - with every person who joined the cry.

Then she saw him.

Bane.

Screw the plan. Even as she glanced side to side she failed to see Bruce through the dense battleground. This one was all hers and she wasn't about to let it slip through her fingers.

It was time for payback.


	29. Chapter 28

Barbara had never been a fool. She had been impulsive before, sure. Yet, as she marched her way up the stairs of City Hall, there was nothing else in her mind except rage. A white-hot rage that burned within her with the strength of a thousand fires… a thousand innocent souls who had already paid the price for this barbaric conflict.

Every step she took, every breath she felt, Bane appeared to mirror.

He'd seen her.

He had his eyes locked directly on her, knowing she was his true prey out here in this wilderness even if he was willing to take down whoever else he could in his wake.

He hardly even blinked as he reached for one of the police officers in front of him, snapping his neck like a twig. A mere inconvenience. Another body lying on the floor, kicked aside like it was nothing more than a stray piece of garbage.

There was no fear, which was what surprised Barbara most. Then again, everything had been building to this moment. Endless death. Endless night, filled with bone-numbing coldness and despair. Every moment of this waking nightmare she had been preparing for this, this moment right here.

 _I'm sorry,_ she whispered silently as she stared at the most recent to fall in this crusade. Another sacrifice.

It was the endless reserve of pain, anger and terror she unleashed as she let loose a deafening roar.

 _Let him hear me._

She was like some wild animal, driven by bloodlust as she closed the distance between them once more and stared in the vacant eyes of her enemy. There was no way out of here except forward and dear God, she was taking him with her no matter what it cost.

No humorous remark was made. No snide comment or taunting jibe. Instead, their bodies did the talking as Bane's dwarfing frame lunged for her, his fist aiming directly for her head in the first blow.

Clearly taking Bruce's cowl before had not been enough. Now he wanted hers to add to his collection of trophies.

Barbara hissed under her breath, dropping down and neatly returning a blow of her own. Even through her rage, she heard the words echoing through her mind.

Speed.

Agility.

Stealth.

They were her allies against such a muscular and bulky opponent as Bane. It was about being smart, calculating and precise that would allow her to undo the lumbering giant who had reigned over Gotham long enough.

She ducked. She weaved. She easily avoided the worst of his blows, unlike she had back in that cell of hers. Instead, she supplied surgical ones of her own, striking hard and fast, revelling in the cries and grunts she elicited in response. However, he was like her. He was one to embrace pain stoically, no stranger to suffering. It would take more to cripple him and prevent his otherwise near victory.

As if trying to prove the point, he parried, lashing out with a tornado of kicks and blows that made Barbara's head spin. She couldn't avoid them all even if her stamina was doing a commendable job of doing so. She merely thanked Bruce for the upgraded armour and the shock absorption supplied by the material. Without it, she hated to consider how much damage she would have had.

A cry filled the air as her head whipped to the side, a pool of blood and spit flying from her lips as the shock rippled through her jaw.

It wasn't broken. Even if it had been Barbara wouldn't have noticed as she retaliated, spinning and launching off the nearest pillar. Her legs were too nimble for him as she climbed off his chest, propelling up and coiling around his neck in a vice.

He clawed at her, blinded by her cape as she squeezed her thighs tight. Her hands were lightening as she struck, mauling his mask and the various pipes connected to it.

Bane's blood-curdling scream was that of a truly wounded animal. It was all the satisfaction she got as he staggered backwards, slamming her into the pillar with the force of an earthquake. Not even she could hold on, gasping as he caught her thigh between his hands and flinging her off like an irritating mosquito. Thankfully he didn't get the chance to squash it as she rolled to the side, bracing against the impact and regaining her footing in the dusty snow.

"Give it up, Bane! It's too late and you know it… We can take this city from you."

 _As long as Dad and the others get to the bomb we can_ she added mentally, masking her inner panic behind a shield of pure determination and resignation. A shield Bane seemed intent on breaching.

One blow. Two. Then another followed succinctly by a kick that caught her all too quickly. His agony was evident in his fury as his gas supply began to fail.

Barbara cried out loudly as his foot sent her flying backwards, crashing into the wall with brute force. Her suit took a majority of the shock, but her whole body and her head hurt as she crumpled to the floor. She bit back a whimper as she tried to stand again, refusing to stay down. Her legs wobbled worryingly beneath her as she stood, putting her weight back on them, causing her to stumble slightly to one side.

Barbara straightened and wiped the blood away from her eyes with a gloved hand. It seemed she'd hit her head with a greater force than she'd believed. Despite this, the fight was still within her eyes, burning with a furious passion.

Bane laughed slightly, shaking his head as he watched the broken girl stand back up. He was surprised by the girl's fight. She was stronger than she seemed. He almost admired her. She would have made a good soldier in another life.

"My Miss Gordon, you really do have a fight within you. I must commend you on it - shame I'm about to kill you," he sneered, his hands shaking as he tried and failed to reconnect the tubes on his mask. "That's why you could never win… you lack what it takes to do what is necessary."

Barbara growled, tensing her aching muscles. "We'll see about that Bane," she snapped, standing a little straighter. "This is my city. My home. I'm not letting you win... Not today. Not ever."

Bane laughed again. "You're too late Miss Gordon. I've already won. It's all over for your precious city. In a matter of minutes, it will be nothing more than a pile of smoking rubble."

"Then we're going down with it. You and me, cause there's no way I'm going anywhere."

Bane didn't reply, instead, he took a step forward, smiling wickedly as he lunged for her once more.

Barbara watched as the soldier's fist came in a sweeping arc towards her face. Having expected such a move she ducked, sliding past and kicking him from behind, sending him staggering forward a few paces. However, as he turned, his fist rose. Yet, it never made it toward her. Instead, it froze mid-air, encased in the iron grip of another.

She glanced at the man it belonged to.

Bruce.

"About damn time!" she bellowed, wanting desperately to roll her eyes despite their circumstances. Had he taken the long route over here or something?

However, she was saved the task of asking as she leapt out of the way, letting Bruce take the next powerful shot at their opponent. If anyone thought two against one was unfair then they clearly didn't know who Bane truly was, the ruthless monster hidden beneath that mask.

They could hardly keep him at bay as they parried and retaliated his attacks with impressive speed and skill. Bruce even managed to send the man staggering backwards, smashing his way through the front doors of city hall and into the foyer beyond.

Barbara could only blink before Bruce was on top of the Warlord, pummelling him ruthlessly into the marble flooring beneath them with a savagery she knew he had been brewing since his return to Gotham. Again. Again. And again.

It was only fair to allow him his turn to extract vengeance for his own suffering. Still, Barbara was only a step behind as she hurried after them and into the foyer. What she hadn't expected was to see none other than Miranda Tate and a small cadre of men joining this chaotic tableau of violence.

She appeared unharmed from the quick survey Barbara completed, but none of them would truly be safe until this was ended. It was why she wasted no more time and returned her focus to the more pressing issue at hand.

The men were armed and wasted no time in surging forward to assist their leader. Barbara copied, preparing to re-enforce Bruce. There were too many for him to handle alone with Bane as well as shielding Miranda in the mix, but they were saved such a task.

"Stay back!" Bane growled, "he is mine. They both are."

Like magic, the men all froze obediently in place, letting the fight continue in front of them. Barbara took that as her cue to join in herself. His orders didn't apply to her after all.

Gathering himself, Bane threw off his assailant and rose to his feet.

Closing in, he began to hammer at Bruce's cowl, again and again. He pounded his lethal fists against the resistant armour, trying to crack it like some eggshell. Given time, he might have succeeded had Bruce not reached up and swiped his bladed forearms at Bane's mask. Just as Barbara had earlier, he caused the giant to howl in agony as his gas supply was cut off further, letting white-hot agony tear through him.

Barbara took that as her opportunity to strike, lashing a series of blows and kicks at the man, causing him to stagger further back as his pain began to blind him. He could hardly raise a hand to defend himself against the pair of them as his senses were overrun with pain instead.

 _Weak,_ Barbara spat mentally. She had crawled her way out of hell in the depths of the worst agony before. He had inflicted suffering onto thousands and yet he couldn't bear any himself. He really was just a creature in a mask.

Bruce was the one to seize the moment, hurling the warlord to the floor and gripping him by the throat. His free hand began to frantically scavenge through his pockets. Barbara didn't need to ask to know what he was looking for. "Give me the trigger! You'd never give it to an ordinary citizen!"

Bane stared up at them both through pain-filled eyes. It was enough to momentarily stun Barbara before her emotions were once more swallowed up in a tsunami of satisfaction. His wild convulsions seemed to subside as he surrendered himself to the pain.

"I broke you," he whispered hoarsely. "Both of you… but you came back. How?"

"You think you're the only one strong enough to learn to escape?"

"I didn't," Bane wheezed. "I never escaped, Ras Al Ghul rescued me. That is why I must fulfil his plan. That is why I must avenge his murder."

That was when Barbara felt the chill in her soul. That was when Barbara looked up and noticed the changing look in Miranda's eyes - not one of jubilation and relief, but that of judgement and emptiness.

"The child of Ras Al Ghul made the climb-"

"But he is not the child of Ras Al Ghul."

Barbara saw the glint of the knife too late. She went to move forward but froze as the guns of the mercenaries rose toward her in unison. She could hardly even call out a warning before it happened - she was too late.

"I am," Miranda declared wickedly as she plunged the knife in, slotting it into Bruce's armour. "And though I am not 'ordinary', I _am_ a citizen…"

She then revealed the trigger inside her tunic.

* * *

Barbara blinked as the ghosts began to fill the room, every word of Miranda's - or Talia's, should she say - story, echoing from the past.

The worst part of it all was that despite her uncontrollable rage at the woman, she almost pitied her and Bane in an odd way… the pain they had endured and suffering was terrible, even if it didn't excuse their actions. Not by a tenth.

"He saw only a monster who could never be tamed. Whose very existence was a reminder of the hell he'd left his wife to die in. He excommunicated Bane from the League of Shadows. His only crime was that he loved me. I could not truly forgive my father…" Talia snarled, agony clear as she turned her icy glare directly onto Bruce. "Until you murdered him."

Bruce stole the words from Barbara's lips as she tried not to laugh is disbelief. "He was trying to kill millions of innocent people -"

"'Innocent' is a strong word to throw around Gotham, Bruce. I honour my father by finishing his work. Vengeance against the man who killed him is simply a reward for my patience."

Miranda's eyes were only on Bruce and Bane. She never even gave the girl a second glance as she twisted the knife in Bruce's gut. Even the mercenaries ignored Barbara as she prowled slowly forward. Her eyes were locked firmly on her prize as it sat there, mockingly close in Talia's closed fist.

"You see," Talia continued mockingly, "it's the slow knife… the knife that takes its time, the knife that waits years without forgetting, then slips quietly between bones… that's the knife that cuts deepest."

It was then the world slowed into painstaking detail. Barbara had no time to process the consuming horror as she watched Talia raise the trigger. Her thumb was dangerously close to the button as she went to hit it and end them all there and then.

"No!" Barbara choked.

She was too late. Talia grinned wickedly and hit it, condemning them all into fire and chaos… or so she thought.

There was silence for a moment. It was enough time for Talia to blink and hit the button again in panic, only to be met with the same lack of results.

 _Thank God, Dad_ Barbara whispered silently, a prayer that their plan had worked and brought them some time. At least he'd kept his end of the mission on track. Now, it was their turn.

"Your knife might have been too slow after all," Barbara jibed. She was unable to help herself and considering the pure fury in Talia's eyes, it was worth it. She looked positively lethal as one of her mercenary guards stepped forward.

"The truck's under attack."

Talia barely flinched, mind racing. Instead, she turned her glare to the pair of them, before landing squarely on Barbara's shoulders as she hissed the name, "Gordon."

"Sorry," Barbara smirked. So that was what Bruce had given her father at the riverside. It had worked after all. "The Gordons have a habit of saving this city. Apparently they didn't get the memo."

"You gave him a way to block my signal. No matter." It clearly did matter, even if she did remarkably well at hiding it. Instead, she glanced at her watch as if merely checking the time like any other day. "He's bought Gotham eleven minutes - Prepare a convoy! We must secure the bomb until it detonates."

Her men didn't need telling twice. They instantly followed her lead as she rose to her feet and leered down at the two men by her feet. Bane was the only one to rise though, reaching past her for one of the many weapons belonging to their re-enforcements.

Once more, Barbara felt trapped as she watched the barrel swing directly towards Bruce's head.

"Not yet," Talia cooed. Her tone was as tender as a lover's as she reached out and snaked her hand along his arm, stalling him.

Bane seemed enchanted. Just one more shock on this day of revelations and reckoning… Talia was the one woman in the world he apparently listened to, humbled himself to. She'd tamed him completely. It appeared to be a trend in this city of women bending the world to their whims.

"I want him to feel the heat." Her soft gaze turned icy and devoid of any tenderness as it landed on Bruce. "Feel the fire of twelve million souls you failed."

"Seems a little premature to be celebrating, Talia," Barbara hissed. Her stomach rolled as Talia remained focused on instead repairing Bane's mangled mask. A fleeting kindness given the circumstances.

"Hardly. We are almost finished with this quest… Goodbye, my friend."

All Bane managed was a slow nod. That was all she needed though, along with his teary gaze as Talia swivelled on her heels and moved out with the Mercenaries. There was no more to be said between them.

How dare she? How dare they get so tender a goodbye when they had robbed so many of that chance? What Barbara would have given to kiss John one more time… At least she'd had a chance to say their goodbyes, no matter how painful and how inadequate they now felt having stared death in the face once more. Yet here she was… willing to risk it all for the chance to save this city. Talia was doing the same, but she was going to fail. Barbara would ensure it even if it was the very last thing she did.

Her blood continued to boil as she watched the woman leave, surrounded by her loyal lapdogs. Yet again, Barbara Gordon was forced to watch someone else walk away from her, leaving her gaping in broken desperation. Her chest felt no less tight than it had that fateful day years ago when her mother had taken her life with her in a beaten duffel bag.

There was no armour. There was no war or valiant brave hero… instead, a scared, tired and wounded child stared wide-eyed at the chaos her life had become.

It was only after the last gun disappeared out of sight that she felt released to move again, her limbs awakening from their stupor.

No. No, she wasn't those things. Not by a long shot. The symbol on her chest proved as much, just as it had that day she had seen Stephanie pull her own version out from her sweater. It meant something. _She_ meant something and by God, this time she could actually do something other than let the world pass her by. No one was forcing her to watch helplessly in the doorway anymore… there was a whole world waiting out there counting on her.

Her, and the bleeding man beside her.

Bruce looked just as agonised as she at Miranda's sudden betrayal and timely exit. She could see by his quivering arms, trying to prop himself up, that the fire inside of her roared within his chest too.

His nod was enough of a reply. They had work to do… and that meant handling the current elephant in the room. Bane.

"Well, well," he croaked, hissing as he cocked the gun menacingly. He turned. Bruce stood no chance as he was kicked directly in the chest, sending him flying into the overturned table behind him.

However, his attention was now solely on checking the rounds in the barrels. Bane had committed the worst of offences, either through arrogance or disregard. Either way, it was his error that cost him as he left his back turned toward Barbara in open invitation.

"You'll have to imagine the fire."

A click.

The gun closed again.

"We both know I need to kill you now."

"Do we?" Before he could pull the trigger, Barbara pounced. "You seem to have forgotten you had company."

A cry filled the air as she lunged, throwing herself at Bane and wrenching his grip to the side. His sudden shot went wide, hitting the wall in a harmless shower of plaster.

"You bitch."

That sounded about right. It felt about right too as Barbara grinned, ducking out of the way as he swung the gun back toward her instead. Yet again his shots missed as she relied on her assets. Speed and stealth guided her as she ducked and weaved, leaping behind one of the pillars and safely out of range.

She'd brought Bruce enough time though. The remaining blood trail where he'd been moments ago assured her of that fact well enough. She could just about see a faint black blur crawling its way around the room.

Barbara didn't need his assistance though. That much was obvious. Even he hadn't expected her to have so much speed, so much rage locked inside to fuel her precise and sharp movements. Without his drugs to support him, Bane was as mortal as any man. Talia's vain efforts to fix his mask had done little to ease his pain.

"You asshole. You murdered hundreds of people!" Barbara hissed. Her voice echoed off the walls ominously as she threw herself back out. Her fist once more connected with the man's face. A howl was her only response. "You tried to break them… break this city and everyone who lives in it… but you've failed."

Bane couldn't help but drop the gun as he tried to shield his face. It made her attack all the easier as he left himself exposed.

"You are nothing… you will always be nothing… an imposter. A failure!"

Her words were punctuated with blows and jibes. Months she had spent building a reserve of strength, of fury, waiting for this moment right here to unleash it. Now that she had started there was no way to stop the hellfire she rained down upon him.

Bane could do nothing but howl and take it, spitting blood onto the dusty floor. It was a haunting sound. One that sounded like it belonged on the lips of a wounded animal. Then again, that's what he was as he snarled and tried to lash out in retaliation.

Barbara ducked and weaved once more.

One blow was enough though. The sheer force of Bane's fist colliding with her chest stole the air from her lungs as did the impact as she sailed backwards and slammed straight into the wall behind.

Her body crumpled onto the floor as she swallowed a wounded whine. Even her suit couldn't prevent all damage, a fact her screaming ribs made her acutely aware of.

"Fuck," she groaned. Still, there was no time to think or breathe.

Instead, she rose.

She rose from the ground just as she always had, pushing herself off the rubble coated floor. Every time she had ever fallen, she had got back up. No one had the right to make her stay down unless she granted it to them.

When she had fallen in the playground as a child she had risen. When she had been knocked aside by Bane's initial explosions, she had risen to a new world and the order of chaos that been born within it. When he had held her in that cell. When he had sent her out onto that ice. When he had tried and tried again to break her, Bane had failed at every turn. Barbara wasn't about to let him start now.

Her snarl was almost feral as she charged, building speed with every step. She was merely a blur. A titan. His angel of doom.

She slammed him into the desk with a malicious grin.

"You-" he snarled, rounding on her ready to kill.

He never got the chance.

The whole room shook as an almighty crash filled the air. Barbara barely had time to turn before she threw herself out of the path of glass and rubble that immediately flew through the air. Bruce mirrored her, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. He was just in time to haul her closer to him as if to shield her from whatever had smashed its way through the remaining walls of the room.

He didn't need to.

A bright burst of light blinded them both, but before they could even panic at the supposedly new threat they heard Bane's cry. A cry that was swiftly followed by the almighty thud of his now lifeless corpse toppled to the ground.

Barbara couldn't believe it. Even as her eyes opened to the hazy room and witnessed the sight for herself she thought she was dreaming. She had to be. Was it real? Was Bane dead?

All the air vanished from her lungs. In fact, so did her control as wave after wave of relief and euphoria cascaded over her in a bewildering onslaught of emotion. It was as if her whole world had slowed to that single frame right there - the one she had been imagining for weeks now as a private, morbid fantasy.

But this wasn't a fantasy. This was as real as the blood dripping down her forehead onto the ashy floor below. Barbara blinked at the sight, lost until the sound of an all too familiar voice woke her from her stupor long enough to glance upward.

"Selina?"

Indeed. There she was in all her smug glory, positioned on the bat-bike Barbara had last seen hurtling toward the horizon. So much for her daring getaway… "The whole no-guns thing? I don't feel as strongly about it as you do.

Barbara had never been more relieved yet terrified in her whole life. Had she hit her head harder than she'd realised? No. The sudden relief and pride on Bruce's face as proof enough for her that this was no hallucination.

"You came back?" She wasn't the only one to be surprised. In fact, she swore she'd never seen Bruce look so confused in all her life. How comforting. For once, the stoic billionaire seemed at a loss for words. Instead, he opted for hauling himself up and staggering closer towards their guardian angel.

It was now Selina's turn to look concerned as she noticed the blood seeping between his fingers. "Of course I did. I knew you wouldn't succeed in this crazy suicide mission without me - apparently, I was right."

"Is that the real reason?"

"What do you want? Some grovelling epiphany about me being a changed woman? Keep dreaming, Batboy."

Barbara couldn't help but smirk as she watched the exchange, clambering back onto her feet. Apparently it took more than a war zone and a warlord's corpse to put these two off their flirting. God. And Diane thought Barbara and John had been nauseating.

"Changed or not," she sighed, "we owe you one."

Selina's smile was genuine. "Anytime, Babs."

Barbara believed her. She'd been right all along to trust the woman, to recognise something else beneath those deep layers she kept around herself. Who could have guessed when they'd made their first uneasy alliance all those months ago that they'd have ended up here? Gotham really was full of surprises and it wasn't done yet - the roars of the battle waging outside was enough of a reminder of that particular detail.

"Where's Diane?"

"Birdy is outside handling some of the thugs out there with remarkable ease, I must say."

That sounded like the Diane Barbara knew and loved. Speaking of which, despite clearly bleeding out from the gaping wound on his side, Bruce had reclaimed his determined expression. The agony was still clear behind his eyes, but the silhouette of his cowl was enough to mask it as he steeled himself and seemed to stand a little taller.

How did he do that? How did he turn off whatever emotion was bothering him? Barbara could only guess.

"Barbara, you need to head over toward the reactor," Bruce commanded. "You'll need to help Lucius set up and we'll meet you there. We need to drive them towards you."

"Who? The convoy?"

"What convoy?" Selina blinked, trying to keep up.

Bruce didn't linger before answering. He was already halfway to the door by the time words even left his lips. "The convoy surrounding the bomb - the bomb Gordon has managed to block from detonating for now, but we're running out of time. We have to get to it and reconnect it to the reactor before the core deteriorates completely."

Selina shared a look with Barbara. "I guess that means we have our orders."

"You obeying orders now? Man, you really have changed."

"Don't get used to it," Selina scoffed. Still, despite her protest, she did exactly as Bruce had asked, heading hastily toward her bike again. With the grace of a ballerina, she straddled the seat and leant into the handlebars. A swift roar of the engine was Barbara's cue to get moving and catch up with the rapidly disappearing Batman. "See you in a second."

Barbara could only nod in reply.

With that, Selina was gone.

Barbara didn't waste time watching the bike break through the swarming crowds outside. Instead, she kept moving. That was all she could do at this point. Stopping meant thinking. Thinking meant feeling and that would lead nowhere good right now. Otherwise, she would have turned and savoured one last look at the fallen tyrant who had spent the past months tormenting her. Sprawled out on the floor he didn't look like one. Rather, he seemed all too mortal… all too fragile and human.

There simply wasn't time to savour this victory until they won the next.

Barbara took off in a sprint, hurling out into the sunlight. Her eyes were quick to adjust as they swept around the carnage. Around the agony.

So many people. So many bodies on the ground. Screaming. Bleeding. Dying…

She shook her head, snapping herself back into focus as she finally located the beacon she was searching for just ahead. It was odd she'd missed it considering the way it rose above the crowd, launching a charge from the steps opposite them.

"Di!"

Her voice was lost in the chaos, but somehow she heard her. Her eyes found her friend as her grin erupted in relief.

"Red!" she cried. An approaching assailant stole her attention for a barely a second as she let out an ear-piercing screech that sent him and several others flying into the concrete wall behind them. "What are you doing?"

"I'm heading to the reactor!'

"Good. Go without me." Diane didn't even blink as she issued the command. "I've got this. They need all the help they can get here. Save Gotham and I'll make sure we have people left to appreciate it."

She clearly did have the situation under control but that didn't make Barbara feel any easier about abandoning the woman who had had her back since this all started. They were partners. Then again, they'd shared one mutual goal this whole time and considering how close they now were it would be beyond selfish to squander the opportunity they had bleed, sweated and almost died for.

Barbara blinked back her tears as she nodded. "Roger that, partner… see you on the other side."

"On the other side!"

She wasted no more time as she ran for her life and leapt onto the nearest vehicle she could find. Thankfully, it just so happened to be Diane's batbike sitting tucked behind her vantage point on the steps.

A single rev of the engine was all it took to restore a slight smile onto Barbara's face.

"Now let's see what this baby can do."

* * *

Barbara couldn't help but grin. The wind rushing through her hair as she all but flew down the street whipped her cape and red locks out like some proud flag.

She'd never felt euphoria like this before. God. She'd never gone this fast before, let alone on a machine as powerful as this. And her dad had almost had a heart attack when she'd ridden home on a basic bike. She'd have paid to see his face now…

All she had to do was breathe and it seemed to respond to her, swerving and steering with remarkable ease despite its size.

Lucius had done it again. The bats really did like their toys and once this was over Barbara was keen to keep this one for herself.

"I'm coming up on the junction!" she bellowed, listening to the static in her ear from the comms unit installed in her cowl. Thankfully, Lucius had made sure it connected to the other comms units in all Wayne Enterprise made cowls and bat-gear.

"The convoy is just ahead!"

Bruce was the first to respond.

Barbara couldn't see up onto the roads above but she knew Bruce and Selina were up there. The echoes of cannon fire and tires screeching told her that much, as did the sight of the Batpod hovering overhead before swerving east.

"I could use a little cover here!" Selina suddenly snapped as yet more gunfire could be heard. Bruce was obviously a believer in actions rather than words as the Batpod blasted what looked like a massive crater in the road ahead of the convoy. Concrete and debris rained down as Barbara glanced over.

It took all her restraint not to swerve back and help them, but she had her role to play. She had to get to Lucius and the reactor to clear the way for the others. It wasn't that far ahead from here, but she had to keep moving if she wanted to make it in time to prime the reactor for the core to be reunited.

As ever, Gotham though seemed to have other plans in store for them all. Gunfire over the commlink was the only warning Barbara had as she also heard the screech of engines a mere minute later.

Selina growled. "Where is this bitch going?"

Had Talia worked out their plan?

"Guys? What's happening over there?"

"She's turned the wrong way!"

"Shit." Barbara echoed the sentiment as she bit her lip. "Don't lose her! I'm almost there!"

Yet, moments later and after several more distant echoes of gunfire and an almighty crash, Barbara heard the words that almost knocked her flat.

"We have the vehicle and the bomb."

A breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding escaped her lips at Selina's declaration.

"Thank god," she sighed, staring down at the navigation screen before her, "I'm almost at the reactor site."

"No," Bruce suddenly snapped. "It's too late… They've destroyed the sight and the reactor. Get back here asap."

Barbara stopped the engine.

She almost crashed as her bike protested at the sudden halt, screeching the tires along the tarmac and tilting as she swerved it to face back down the route she'd just come. "What do you mean? Bruce?"

No answer.

"Fucking hell," she choked, wasting no time and simply following her gut. She had to get back up onto the bridge as fast as she could. At least she had the resources to do so, even if she had no clue what to do when she got there. Without the reactor to stabilise the core then they had no way to stop the bomb… no way to stop the explosion that would kill everyone on this island and ensure Bane and Talia succeeded after all.

No. No, she had to stop thinking like that. _Just get to the bridge. You'll figure something out. Come on Babs, don't give up now._

Easier said than done.

Barbara could barely stop the sudden tremor in her hands as she clung to the handlebars for dear life. She sped up until the world around her was merely a blur, the engine revving angrily.

What had felt like a lifetime was probably closer to a minute as Barbara finally appeared at the edge of the road. It was hard to miss it really, the overturned tumblers and gaping crater above. Yet, there was no sign of Talia or her men.

Barbara didn't care what had happened to them, only that they weren't there to stop whatever plan the group ahead were forming. They were all there; Bruce, Selina, her father -

"Da-" she started, only to clamp her lips shut. Her arrival was, instead, marked by the sound of her footsteps as she bolted towards them. Still, they hardly looked up.

Their attention was rightly focused on the now recovered core lying in the truck before them. Bruce was wasting no time in reaching down, plunging his hands toward the core and easing it up. What was also clear was the cable he had waiting beside him, ready to be attached - or so Barbara guessed.

Was that their plan? Getting it out of the city?

"What are you doing?"

Bruce was the only one to answer her. "Thinking of plan B."

"Which is?"

Bruce didn't answer. Instead, he clipped the cable to the core and jumped from the back of the van. His destination was clear as marched back toward the Batpod, Selina in tow.

Barbara would have followed had the voice not stopped her.

The one voice she had been waiting to hear since the battle had started.

"Wait." Her father croaked.

It was as if lightning shot through her.

He was so close. In one piece. Alive.

A slow breath escaped her lips as she turned to face him. This was the first time she had ever faced him not as herself, not as his daughter. Instead, she felt her heart racing beneath her armour as she tried to keep her voice low. "Commissioner?"

If he knew it was her, or if he was surprised to finally see her up close, then he didn't show it. Instead, there was a silent curiosity there… one Barbara had seen often enough in the past. He had to know whatever it was that was bugging him, even if they only had mere minutes left to live. He wouldn't be able to die without asking whatever was burning inside him. "I never asked… well, I suppose I never got the chance, but… why?"

Why? That was the question Barbara had been asking herself since day one.

"Why do this?… Pick up his mantle?"

She swallowed. "Why wouldn't I? Gotham needed us, and we answered, Commissioner. It's as simple as that."

"I'd hardly call it simple when most people would have just stuck their head in the sand - especially someone as young as you. You shouldn't be here."

"Where should I be?"

"Home… with your parents. With people who love you." His voice sounded pained. It almost made Barbara stop in her tracks, but the hand on her arm did that well enough. If only she could tell him she was doing just that. "Who are you?"

Barbara froze as the words choked in her throat. What did she say? The truth? She couldn't. That wasn't an option anymore. Lie? That was the obvious choice but she knew her father had had enough of lies for a lifetime. He knew when people were lying. It would just be futile to attempt to fight him.

But even then she knew… she knew that if she ever wanted to keep their relationship she had to lie. She had to lie for all the years he had looked after her, and for all the years they had left together… for the sacrifices, they had made for one another.

He couldn't lose her, just as she knew she couldn't bear to lose him. Not now. Not after everything, and definitely not like this. "We're who you needed us to be."

Perhaps her expression made that clear. That was all Barbara could think as she turned, realising that she had been so engrossed in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed Bruce start to clamber into the Batpod.

"What are you doing?" Gordon bellowed, looking just as bewildered as Selina, and Barbara by the sudden turn of events. Clearly he'd shaken himself from whatever emotional angst had been hovering around him.

"I can get it out over the bay."

Selina blinked. Her desperation was clear in the way her voice wavered unsteadily, "set it to fly out over the water and then eject?"

Bruce shook his head. "No autopilot."

Silence hung between them.

The answer was obvious.

"We could have gone anywhere, been anything," Selina lamented, her voice uncharacteristically pained. "But you came back here."

"So did you."

He had a point. A strong enough point to coax a mere slip of a smile from Selina.

"I guess we're both suckers."

There was the truth of it all. They were both suckers, just like the other two people around them were. They had all been suckers for love - the love of each other and of their city. A love that had led them all right to this very moment. To this very choice.

There was no more need for words, so Selina took a leaf out of Bruce's book and let her actions do the talking for once.

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him with every fibre of her being. It was a brief kiss, over almost as soon as it had begun, but it was enough. Enough for them both to finally confess what had been going on inside… even if it was too late.

Once again Barbara wished she had John stood beside her to help, or even just to hold if these were indeed their final minutes.

"Br - Batman, no," Barbara pleaded, as he climbed into the pod. "You can't do this… not again. You don't have to make this sacrifice."

"I think you'll find I can. We both know I have to… whatever it takes, remember?"

She did.

Barbara heard her heartbreak as her own promise haunted her. "Wh… whatever it takes."

"This is what it takes. This is what I can do to end the fight you've been carrying on for me. For Gotham and every soul, you've strived to protect. We can't let it fall apart now."

It was true, but Barbara didn't have the strength to admit it. This was one more goodbye she couldn't prevent, no matter how hard she tried. It was as if she was back there, stood watching as Batman melted into the night, leaving them with the mangled corpse of Harvey Dent and a legend to create.

She couldn't stop him. No one could. Not even Gordon.

"So, what? This is the part where you vanish, only this time you don't come back?" He reached out suddenly, placing a hand on Bruce's arm as if to try and stop him by force. "I never cared who you were-"

"And you were right."

"But shouldn't the people know the hero who saved them?"

Even though there were mere minutes left, Bruce stopped long enough to glance over at the Commissioner. There was more in his eyes, hiding all the things Barbara knew he wished he could say… but there wasn't time. There was never time.

"A hero can be anyone. That was always the point," he sighed gruffly, lowering himself into the seat and beginning to flick switches on the board in front of him. It was then he stopped completely, making sure his gaze remained firmly on the desperate looking man before him. "Anyone. A man doing something as simple and reassuring as putting a coat around a little boy's shoulders to let him know that the world hadn't ended."

With that, the canopy closed and sealed him into his fate. The engine rumbled into life.

Barbara could see the light glimmering in the back of her father's eyes as some memory echoed inside him. Some part he clearly had forgotten until now.

The pain in his expression as the truth finally hit him was enough to break her heart. As was the way he looked up toward the cockpit in adoration.

"Bruce Wayne?"

At least that was one less lie Barbara had to tell from now on. He knew the truth. Finally. He knew the man behind the mask that had saved them both from Dent all those years ago. The man who had started this quest to save the city they both loved more than anything… the city to whom they had all sworn their lives to serve.

That was why he was doing this… one final act to save them all.

The Bat began to rise.

Gordon, Barbara and Selina all stepped back as they watched the cable running behind the floating vehicle. Eventually, the core began to follow, being dragged along the road and up into the waiting sky.

He put as much distance between him and the city as possible. The vehicle got smaller with every passing mile, disappearing until it was merely a speck on the horizon.

A mere blip of darkness.

Barbara watched the explosion ripple across the skyline.

It seemed to stretch on for miles, as far as the eye could see… a never-ending golden haze of light and heat that was as if it had come from heaven itself. For a moment she almost believed it was, a true sign of their deliverance…

Then it was over.

* * *

She didn't remember making her way from the bridge. She didn't remember when she changed out of her armour, or how she had managed to get herself back to the Safe-house. It had all been a bit of a blur. Driving around; Dumping her suit and evidence; Making her way towards the apartment…

The first thing she really became conscious of was the feeling of John's arms around her waist as he lifted her upwards, and kissed her with fierce desperation.

It was as if she had fallen into a still from some movie. She didn't care if the whole street saw. It was hard to care about anything right then other than savouring the soft touch of her partner. Every inch of her skin burned as she felt his hands roaming wildly, desperate to feel and confirm her existence for himself.

"Babs," he groaned, pulling back long enough for his soft eyes to linger on hers. As soon as their gazes met, her face crumpled. A small, broken noise cracked from within.

John was instantaneous as his grip dropped to catch her before her knees could give out and drop her into the snow.

Barbara covered her face with her hands while the past forty-eight hours crashed into her. It was as if now that she was safely encased within his embrace she could feel her guard dropping, her walls caving in an earth-shattering landslide. Whether or not John knew, he held her fiercely, cradling her and making small soothing noises until her sobs began to slow. Slow long enough for him to risk peeling back the hands from her face and tenderly wipe away the tears that glistened there.

"My love," he whispered in utter reverence. "Gotham's hero."

How was she supposed to respond to that other than with another searing kiss of her own? Her lips did the talking as she cupped his icy cheeks and held him there till she felt the world return to her.

Soft giggles followed as they finally made eye contact once more. Silence had lingered long enough. There was too much euphoria between them to ignore, intermingled with the pain and grief. The whole moment felt too absurd to comprehend so they didn't. Instead, they laughed, harder and harder until the tears that fell from their eyes were that of relief and joy.

"We did it," Barbara choked eventually. "We actually did it."

"We did… You did. You saved us all, Babs."

"No. I didn't do it alone."

"Well, you had some help," John beamed his smile at war with the tears that slid stealthily from his eyes. "God, I need a drink."

"I want to sleep forever."

She probably would have, had he let her. As it was she began to slide down the wall behind her and sat on the floor. Her eyes closed instantly as she leant back, pressing her skull into the brick of the wall.

Blood and sweat still coated her. She tried to remember the usual fit of her soul inside her frail body, and the world around her - or what was left of it. What to do with her limbs in the stillness.

How did she usually stand when she wasn't running? How did she stop moving?

She was too tired to know how to feel. It was only early evening by the chipped watch on her wrist's reckoning, but it felt like the longest day of her life. The war would linger with her long after this day ended, some invisible scar that would perhaps fade, but never wholly vanish.

John seemed to understand though perfectly, as he slowly moved closer so that his body was a mere few centimetres from hers. His arm reached out, placing itself on her arm and he rubbed it gently. He didn't say anything, letting them stay there in silence.

"So many people," Barbara choked, finally finding the words she needed to say whilst it was just the two of them like this, frozen in limbo between what had been and what was yet to come. As Batgirl she had been strong, swallowing all emotions behind her mask. Yet, as Barbara Gordon it was different. She was exposed… "What was the cost for all of this?"

"They gladly paid the price, just as Bruce did," John whispered firmly, holding her close again to his chest.

How was he doing it? How did he remain so composed, so sure and steadfast that all was once again right in the world? No part of this was right, even if they had been victorious. The tang of victory was nothing more than a bitter ashy taste in her mouth.

Still… she didn't have to make sense of it all now. No. Rather, she instead had the rest of her life to try and make sense of this, to understand and comprehend every little detail of this momentous day. The city itself had as many scars as its occupants. No one would forget this in a hurry… They would remember this forever.

He stayed like this for several minutes, smiling as he brushed the hair from her forehead. Barbara felt little tremors in her skin as his fingers caressed her. It was a comforting gesture. "We should get moving soon. Your father will want to see you, Diane, too."

Barbara didn't answer. She took a deep breath and looked at him with pain-filled eyes. She didn't know what to say. Instead, she nestled closer to him, letting him embrace her. His warmth radiated from beneath his shirt, his chest rising slowly and falling again in a steady, soothing rhythm.

She could have stayed there in that single moment forever.

"One minute more?" she pleaded. Neither of them had the heart to deny the other, especially not when the carnage that awaited them was so vast neither could begin to comprehend it. Instead, they sat there for a moment or two more, basking in their peace whilst they still could.

Alas, the sinking sun across the bay told them both that their time was up.

"Come on," John sighed, easing them both to their feet. "We should get home before it gets dark… we've both had more than enough action for a lifetime."

He spoke sense and Barbara knew it. Hence, with one last fleeting glance across the water, Barbara allowed him to loop his arm around her waist. As she had stared off into that sunset she knew that was exactly what they'd got. A lifetime - if they wanted it. The idea of all that time, and spending it with the man beside her, was sheer heaven.

She couldn't wait.


	30. Chapter 29 - A new beginning

It was a week after the battle of Gotham City that, finally, the world started to move on. Gotham City was a fresh wound for the world, and the media had taken full advantage of it. All week on TV there had been endless coverage of the events, footage and images playing on loop. There had also been debates about everyone involved. Every damn politician, official or civilian had an opinion on what had happened whether they'd been there or not.

For Barbara and the others, it was so odd to watch it back, as if it was just some movie. It had really happened though. She'd been there and seen it all for herself.

But after a week the coverage slowly started to disappear. Somehow the world seemed to be moving past it and trying to look forward. Eventually, the day came when Barbara realised she would have to do the same… she would have to leave the last months and all their heartache buried in the rubble that was slowly being cleared from the streets so that they could rebuild a new Gotham. Better. Stronger. Brighter.

Then again, that was easier said than done. After all, funerals had never been her forté so to have so many so quickly was enough to knock the life out of Barbara.

The first was hard in a different kind of way. Standing in the graveyard, surrounded by so many GCPD men and women in blue was overwhelming. Together they paid their respects to their fallen brothers, and sisters, now lying row on row.

But it was watching their families that almost broke Barbara. They hadn't signed up for this… for this pain and heartache… They looked like she did, stood all in black. It was a sombre and macabre sight as they wept and saluted.

When Foley's wife and son stepped forward to lay their wreath… Well, Barbara had had no words. Not as Harvey reached out to pat the young boy's shoulder, and Moira embraced Foley's new widow.

Barbara half expected her stubborn instincts to kick in - to tell herself 'no crying'. After all, she had cried enough in the last week when people weren't there to see her. She felt stupid at the thought. Crying was natural. Even if it did make her feel about a thousand times worse afterwards.

Then again, the GCPD philosophy on funerals was that there should be no tears and that people should pay their respects, sharing the happy memories of the deceased's life. It was this motto she and her father was trying to adopt that day.

So she wiped away the stray tear on her cheek and held her father's hand tightly. She watched, feeding off his strength as he said a few words. She tried to pay attention to what was being said, but it was rather hard to concentrate when there were so many coffins only a metre from her, covered in an American flag and decorated beautifully with flowers and wreaths.

They were going to be gone soon, just like all decorations were removed from graves older than a week, but for that moment it was oddly beautiful, yet sickening, to see. Yet, try as hard as she might, she couldn't look anywhere but directly at it.

All things ended so that new things could spring in their place.

"We won't let you down," she whispered.

* * *

The second funeral had been painful in an altogether different way. It had just as bleak an affair despite the somewhat grander location. Then again, Wayne Manor had never looked so dismal.

Even with the brink of spring approaching, the whole estate looked dead with the withered trees and bare lawns full of weeds. The house looked empty and lifeless, an oddly apt sentiment as if it could feel its own loss keenly. The last of the Wayne family, gone from its hallowed halls.

Barbara squeezed Alfred's hand as she watched him make his way over toward them, gathered in the family plot. Yet more souls lying row on row. She could see his heart breaking all over again.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, though she knew it would do little to ease his pain. But it was all she had to offer as she stood there, letting the others take charge of the intimate ceremony they had arranged.

"I see a beautiful city and a brilliant people rising from this abyss. I see the lives for which I lay down my life, peaceful, useful, prosperous and happy. I see that I hold a sanctuary in their hearts, and in the hearts of their descendants, generations hence," her father read softly, eyes lingering on the book wedged in his trembling hands.

She'd picked the reading. She didn't know why. It had always been a favourite book of her's and her father too, and that day the words had felt too apt to ignore.

She failed to hide the faint stream of tears that trickled down her cheeks with every word her father spoke.

"It is a far, far better thing that I do than I have ever done. It is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known."

By god, she hoped that was true. She hoped he had found peace so that he could rest. After all he had sacrificed for this city, for her family, he had earned it. He'd earned much more than that and her heart ached that they'd never be able to grant it to him. Sure, they could build crappy statues inside City Hall, they could declare liberation day a city-wide holiday… but it was nowhere near enough to praise the efforts of the man who had effectively saved them all. Batman… Bruce Wayne. The man who should have been stood beside her, watching the new dawn of Gotham.

The night before she had sat there and cried.

"It could have been me… it _should_ have been me," she had repeated over and over as if somehow saying it would make it true. It would reverse that day on the bridge, and it would bring Bruce back.

But he was gone. He made a sacrifice… for them. All of them. He had chosen to take that burden from her, to allow her to keep on living, to keep on fighting. That was what she had to do now. There was no other option. Or so John had reminded her, cradling her close and letting her cry as she watched the sunset over Gotham.

The new Gotham.

Their Gotham.

What Barbara would have given right then for another bottle of Vodka. Or tequila. Or anything that would make standing through this ordeal any less painful.

As if sensing her distress, John slid his arm around her waist and held her close inside the warmth of his coat. Her gratitude was instantaneous as she nestled in tighter to his embrace. The warmth of his body against hers, and the faint hint of cologne, had become so familiar to her that her heart fluttered in relief.

Having Diane stood beside her was also a massive comfort. Ever since the battle of Gotham - as it was now known - the three of them had been inseparable.

It was why Barbara had understood Diane and John's reluctance to return to their own homes… their old apartments. After living together for four months, the idea of living alone felt terrifyingly odd. So, when she caught Diane curled up in her bed in the safe house, she had crawled in beside her. She also draped a blanket over John's shoulders as he had nodded off on the couch.

There was no rush to leave. All their apartments and their old lives would be there waiting for them. But for now… family and friends were more important. Finding the courage to accept the new world waiting for them was a group effort and they knew that better than most. A team was always stronger than an individual.

They had each other's backs. They could be there to hold each other when they laughed and cried. They understood what no one else could.

Like that morning, Barbara had felt numb as she slid on the black dress and jacket she had chosen for the occasion. She had straightened her father's tie. She had held Diane's hair back as she slid her necklace on… she was everywhere except in her own head. Barbara almost swore she was floating but it was them… them that had kept her grounded, just as John was doing now with his soft kisses and comforting embrace.

To her immense relief, her father had actually been ok with the news of their relationship. They had told him together the truth, not that they had to. Their kiss after the battle had made it quite clear how they felt about one another. In fact, if Barbara didn't know any better, she'd have said he was almost pleased to hear it. Her father had been oddly supportive, but this was John Blake after all they were talking about.

He was unlike anybody she'd ever dated in the past, and they'd been through hell and back together. He'd proved his worth in every possible way imaginable.

That didn't mean the Commissioner was quite ready yet to see his daughter and ex right-hand man kissing one another. Barbara had chuckled at the blush in his cheeks when he'd first caught them pressing a stolen kiss to each other's lips before heading out for the morning into the streets.

Some things never changed, and her father's instinct to protect his daughter's supposed innocence was one of them. At least he hadn't tried to do the whole 'if you hurt my daughter' speech yet. It was also a good thing he was oblivious to everything that had been happening under his nose for the past few months.

Barbara sighed, smiling across at him as they all began to turn away from the fresh grave.

However, they didn't get far before she heard the soft crunch of footprints behind them on the gravel.

"Can I change your mind?"

Her father's voice was clear as he called, causing them both to turn.

"About quitting the force?"

Barbara tightened her grip on John's hand as she watched him shake his head. They'd talked about this topic enough that she knew he had his answer and nothing was going to change it. No matter how hard her father seemed to want to try. "You know what you said, about structures becoming shackles?"

Her father nodded slowly.

"You were right," John continued firmly, "and I can't take it. The injustice. I mean no one's ever gonna know who saved an entire city."

"They know," her father replied softly. "It was the Batman, the Batgirl and the Black Canary."

The three of them shared a long look as they finally turned back to the awaiting vehicle behind them, letting the words hang in the air.

* * *

One thing Gotham was known for was its tenacity. It was a city that had experienced suffering and chaos like few other cities worldwide ever had. However, as the buildings lay in ruin, the people did not.

The weeks after Bane's occupation ended seemed like mere seconds as people resumed their lives in the ways they could. Shops opened, schools opened. More importantly, life began to flood back into the once desolate streets.

As Barbara had sat at her bedroom window that night, applying the finishing touches to her hair she couldn't help the smile that lingered on her lips. Even through the gap in her window, she could hear the sound of children laughing as they played in the streets below. She heard the symphony of music playing from a fire escape and swore nothing had ever sounded so perfect.

There had been no hesitation when Diane had suggested this night out. God knew they needed it like nothing else in the whole world. They needed a night to feel free, alive and like the world still existed around them - a world they craved to be a part of once again, no longer full of fear, death and hate.

It was why Barbara beamed, casting a last approving glance down at her dress. She looked pretty damn good in the rather short, silver dress - even if she did say so herself. The look was only made even better with the addition of the small pendant that hung around her neck.

A small silver chain hung about her neck, a gift from John. That much was apparent by the small bird-like charm that was on it, the hint to the identity of the owner. A robin. Like her Robin.

It was their secret, and even now the thought of it made her heart skip a beat as she toyed with the chain. Only she was privy to his true birth name and the history that came with it.

She let her eyes wander back to the mirror as she took in one last look of approval. With that, she hurried out into the evening.

As they had strolled into the club, Diane and John at her side, Barbara felt like she was walking on air. The cliché had never felt truer than just then.

She had danced till she couldn't feel her feet. She had sung till her throat ached. She drank till the world around her dissolved into a glittering haze of life and jubilation.

They were alive and she planned on fucking celebrating that fact every day for the rest of her life.

* * *

A few more weeks passed in the mere blink of an eye.

Wayne Manor. It had always been a place of life and grandeur. Generations of Gotham's finest parties had been held in the hallowed halls of the mansion. Yet, that early spring afternoon, John Blake couldn't help but think the mansion had never been as full of life as it was then.

Even in the kitchen the echo of footsteps in the halls, the cries and laughter of the boys that now occupied the house, flooded every crevice of the building.

He stood at the kitchen window, staring at the garden in full spring splendour. It was just in time for the grand opening ceremony the week after.

He paused, eyes drifting across the window. John couldn't get enough of it: watching the children running back and forth on the lawns with such joy, such freedom, in their beings. Their laughter was a symphony in the afternoon air.

Just staring—and listening to that beautiful laugh… Barbara's laugh.

He slowly rubbed a hand over his chest at that sound—the joy in it. It was like nothing he'd heard and he wanted to hear nothing but it till the day he died.

Close. They had all come so close to not seeing days like this ever again. This place. Each other. And he knew that the laughter … it was defiant and celebratory of reaching this moment.

"You going to stare out that window all day, or are you going to join me?"

Barbara's voice startled him out of his reverie. His head turned on instinct, his breath hitching as he saw her standing there. A glass of champagne in each hand, and beaming, Barbara looked like a dream.

"How could I refuse such a tempting offer?" he purred, closing the distance between them. His hand took a glass from hers and his other slid around her waist. "What's the matter? The boys not entertaining enough company for you?"

"Behave," Barbara scolded, giggling as she did so. It was impossible to do anything other than laugh when he was kissing her cheek like that. "Why are you hiding in here?"

John didn't answer. It was in the silence that Barbara finally heard it: the laughter from the boys outside. She sighed in understanding, pressing a tender kiss to his lips as she murmured, "it's real, John. It's all real. We made it… we did it."

"Maybe one day I'll realise that."

"Maybe," Barbara chuckled softly. "But until then you've got me to remind you every single day until you tire of me."

"I like the sound of that," he purred, holding her close. "And I'll never tire of you."

Barbara's smile grew tenfold as she stole one last kiss. It was a beautiful sentiment, and deep down she knew she felt the same. "Let's go home."

* * *

They'd put this off for far too long. Stalling the inevitable, flitting instead between John's apartment, and Diane's, and the safe house. It was as if they were afraid of what they'd find, left behind.

Even pushing back the door to their apartment… their home… it was as if she was re-entering a dream. Everything was exactly as she'd left it… As she approached her old home she sighed. She did miss it; this old building, with its shabby window frames and faded brickwork. Memories of her childhood flooded back to her as she climbed the steps, reaching for the door handle. Somehow they felt like a lifetime ago.

A soft gasp escaped her lips as she stepped inside. Crossing the doorway was like crossing the threshold into the past, a perfectly preserved time capsule from months ago… So. Apparently Bane and his goons hadn't been here. Nothing seemed out of place or damaged in the slightest - not that she could tell as she wandered spellbound through the once familiar space.

Relief filled her at that realisation. She didn't know why, but their home had been spared even down to the crap stacked on the kitchen table in odd piles, just as she had left it. A perfect snapshot of the night it had all gone to hell…

Her fingers skated across the smooth wooden surface, feeling every bump and crevice of the table affectionately. She did not even mind the coat of grey dust that settled on her fingers as she pulled them off.

And she realised with startling clarity that her old home was indeed the same, but they … they were not. None of them were. The people they'd been before the uprising, before Bane… they were mere ghosts, haunting every nook and cranny of the apartment.

It was enough to knock the breath right out of her.

A warm hand on her shoulder pulled her back into reality. She knew it was John without even having to turn. She squeezed John's hand so tightly she thought he'd complain, but he only squeezed right back.

"What is your mother going to think when she sees the state of this place?"

Barbara shot her father a wary smirk. "Dad, relax. She isn't possibly going to be worried about this place."

John chuckled affectionately at the pair of them. "What time does her flight get in?"

"Later tonight." Her dad rolled his eyes as if he was dreading that.

"See? Plenty of time to tidy up if you're so worried."

Barbara did not understand how John seemed so calm about the whole thing. At this rate, he was going first with the broom and if he wasn't too careful she'd put him to work with a mop as well.

Then again, she could use his support to distract her from the thought of seeing her mother again. Bane had been one thing, but mother Gordon was a whole other threat.

It wasn't that she hadn't missed her, because Barbara had. It was more the fact she still, even now, didn't know how to react or feel around her. To hear about her new life in Cleveland always made Barbara's stomach churn uncomfortably. Then again, it wasn't as if she was the same girl she'd been last time she'd been in the same room as her Mom.

They both had new lives now. They were both new people in their own ways. Maybe it was time to lower both their walls and try to get to know one another again. This was their fresh start, after all, the one Bruce had given his life for… Barbara wasn't about to dare waste a second of it.

A ringing phone pulled her out of thoughts.

Her father paused, the obvious culprit as he reached into his pocket. He sighed, looking down at his phone. "I better get this, it's Harvey," he explained. "He's probably wondering what time we're meeting for dinner, Sunday."

"Say hi for us," Barbara called, smirking as she watched her father disappearing into the hallway.

The thought of having a full family dinner again was odd, if not comforting. It had been so long, and to think her Mom and brother would actually be back in the city… it was one more piece to add to this puzzle that was her life now.

In some ways, the war had been simpler.

"So," John smirked, drawing her back into the room. "Where do we start?'

"I don't know."

She didn't. The whole place looked like it needed some major TLC, from the thick layer of dust everywhere to the cobwebs in the corners of the ceiling. She didn't even want to start thinking how much stuff needed to be put through the washing machine.

Instead, she chose something simple to draw her focus.

The floorboards creaked as she padded over to the window, masked by the lengthy drapes hanging over it. Her hands took the fabric and tore them apart, allowing sunlight to finally burst back into the room and the home.

"There," she smiled, dusting her hands proudly. "That's better."

"Much," John agreed, heading over toward the cupboard by the door. Barbara could hear him rustling through the various household and cleaning supplies stashed away inside it. "We could start with the vacuum?"

"You volunteering?"

"Maybe. Depends on the motivation."

Barbara laughed. He was incorrigible. "Is my love and devotion not enough?"

"Tempting!" he echoed, his voice muffled as he freed himself from the cupboard and sauntered closer. The devious look was enough warning for Barbara as she tried to push him away. "But I think I need something a little better than that."

"You're a pain in the ass."

"Your pain," he corrected as his lips found hers, his arms snagging around her waist to draw her close.

Barbara didn't even try to fight as she returned the gesture. One day she'd tire of being able to do this when and where she liked, but today was not that day. In fact, it seemed incredibly far away by Barbara's reckoning. Had she had her way, they'd have done more than a kiss but it was suicidal to risk anything when her father was still only a couple rooms away.

Hence, she was surprised it was her phone buzzing - and not her father - that was responsible for interrupting their display of affection a minute later.

"Hang on," she grumbled, "I better see if it's Diane. She was supposed to call to let me know when she's coming back from Starling."

John sighed but surrendered. He released her from his grip but pressed a soft kiss to her head in compensation as Barbara looked down at the screen.

However, he hadn't expected her face to drop so dramatically. In fact, Barbara didn't say anything for a minute, just blinking as if trying to figure out what to say.

"Babs?" he prompted, peering down at the screen for himself. "What is it?"

"You're not going to believe this."

"What? Why?"

"It's Selina. Selina Kyle."

John blinked.

Had he had a glass of water Barbara was sure he'd have completed a perfect spit take.

"Excuse me?"

Barbara nodded. "And if that's surprising wait till you hear what she has to say."

With that, she turned the screen towards him and let him read the text for himself. The way his jaw dropped told her all she needed to know.

He couldn't believe it either.

 _He's not dead. Coffee? x_

* * *

Having coffee with a ghost was a new experience, and considering the last year, that was saying a lot. After last night and her mother's awkward arrival back in Gotham Barbara felt as if she had become a pro at awkward reunions.

If she'd survived that one, she could definitely survive this.

Or at least that was what she'd told herself as she'd made her way down the busy street and towards the coffee shop located at the end. A narrow building of bright red brick, and glistening gold letters hanging over the door, Barbara could hardly miss the place. Selina had been very specific in her instructions after all.

Barbara could hardly blame the woman for her discretion. Gotham had bigger priorities than arresting her right now, but Selina had had enough attention for a lifetime. Or so the wide-brimmed black hat and sunglasses suggested.

Sitting there, in the afternoon sun, Selina looked like a movie star from some silent motion picture. Barbara had almost felt bad shattering the illusion, dropping into the empty seat opposite in her worn yellow converse and a coat that had seen better days.

Then again, they hadn't arranged this meeting for a simple social soiree - a fact Barbara was desperate to understand as she had begun grilling the woman who never seemed to run out of surprises.

It was only after the third coffee that it began to make sense, Selina piecing together the missing elements of this bizarre and surreal narrative.

Bruce was alive.

He'd escaped the Bat, allowing the bomb to detonate harmlessly over the sea.

Now he and Selina were leaving? Together?

Barbara couldn't have wished for a better ending for both of them. God knew they'd earned it. She also, selfishly, was grateful for the weight of her guilt she felt slipping away at the knowledge she hadn't failed Bruce after all. It was enough to quell any possible outrage she may have felt at realising Bruce had shared her identity with Selina. After everything they'd been through, Barbara trusted Selina to keep the secret to herself. That, and it was liberating to finally be able to talk without masks and personas between them.

"Does Alfred know?"

"No," Selina replied, sipping her coffee with incredible composure. "I believe Bruce wants to let him know somehow. I didn't really ask."

"But you're telling me?"

"Bruce felt you were owed the truth," Selina continued, "and I agreed. I know you and I saw you after you thought he was dead. You have enough on your shoulders without that ridiculous guilt."

"Thank you."

Selina smirked. "You don't need to thank me. I'm simply repaying the debt we both owe you. Gotham wouldn't have lasted in his absence, something I realised too late. My actions nearly cost us everything. Without you and Diane, we wouldn't be having this annoyingly cheesy happy ending."

"Very true."

"And it wasn't as if he could risk doing this in person."

Barbara chuckled at the thought. "Also true."

In a way, she admired the sentimentality she knew had also brought Selina here. It wasn't just practicality that had encouraged the woman to reappear in Barbara's life once more, even if it felt odd to be doing this face to face. Selina had wanted to say goodbye. A proper goodbye.

"So, what's ahead for you both?"

"Europe. Asia. Wherever," Selina smirked, the excitement clear in her pale brown eyes as she looked at her over the rim of her own cup. "The world is our oyster, and for once we can go anywhere, and be anything we want."

"I'm happy for you."

And she was.

"What about you, and Diane, and Blake?" Selina continued, leaning back in the seat. She clearly enjoyed finally turning the tables on this mock interrogation. "What do your futures' look like?"

That was the question; one Barbara herself had been muddling over the last week or so.

What did their futures look like?

What did hers look like?

John had made his decision regarding the force and Diane had made the decision to go home for a while to spend some much needed time with her family.

Barbara, well she could hardly decide what to do. There were so many possibilities, so many ways she could go, and it scared her. Sure, she had John, and she knew she wanted to be with him. She also knew she wanted to spend time with her Dad, and Diane, and go back to how it used to be, as much as that wasn't entirely possible anymore. But Batgirl…

Barbara didn't know where that fit in in her future.

"Diane and I have work to go back to, I think," she began smoothly, biting her lip in thought. "Gotham is going to need us to handle everything since the breakouts. Things are worse than ever, with escapee criminals, and Bane's men still hiding in the city. But, we have each other. Diane's gone back to Starling for the week to see her family, and John and I… I think we're just looking forward to going on a date. A real date."

"That sounds like a lot of fun."

Barbara smiled. "That it should be."

"Speaking of the oh-so-handsome John Blake, where is he?"

"Collecting something Bruce left in his will to us and Diane."

"Wonder what it is…"

"No clue," she shrugged. She doubted it was anything to do with trinkets or silverware. What had the billionaire left them? "We'll see soon enough."

Apparently, it would be sooner than Barbara had thought. She'd only just looked up when she noticed the car parking across the street and the man that got out of it. John had been quicker than she'd thought he'd be at the solicitor's.

She also wasn't the only one to notice the new arrival. Selina had turned too, smirking as she noticed the ex-detective marching toward them.

"Well, that's my cue," she purred, easing to her feet and slipping her bag over her shoulder. "I better be off. I have a plane to catch, and this time, your handsome beau won't be stopping me."

Barbara just giggled, looking at him for herself as she got to her feet. That felt like a lifetime ago and in some ways it was.

It that fact wasn't clear before, it certainly was by the way John waved at them both before daring to greet Selina with a cheerful, "Hope I'm not interrupting you, ladies."

Selina smiled. "Never, I was just leaving."

"What a shame."

"I think not." Selina's grin was wicked as she laughed under her breath, shaking her head and reaching to briefly embrace Barbara.

She was surprised by the affectionate gesture, but smiled, taking it anyway.

"I'll miss you," Barbara choked, surprised to find she meant it. "Take care of yourself, and … you know who."

It went without saying but she couldn't help it, giving the woman one last tight hug before releasing her.

"You got it."

"See you, Miss Kyle."

"See ya around handsome," Selina purred, brushing past him, and winking at them both as she rose a hand, hailing a passing taxi cab. One instantly appeared, drawing to a neon yellow halt, the engine still running. "And Barbara," she continued, turning back to smile at her one last time. "Don't forget: we strong women have to stick together. You're braver and tougher than you think - I'm only ever a phone call away though."

Barbara nodded warmly, knowing it to be true. "I know."

Selina just grinned. "I'll send you a postcard."

"Do that," John chuckled, giving her a brief wave, and slipping an arm around Barbara's waist, pulling her closer into his side.

They stood, watching on the kerb as the taxi disappeared, leaving them to it, in their city.

Barbara had to admit, she was sad to see her go. Selina Kyle wasn't the most typical of people, but she had a good heart. Barbara knew that was what Bruce saw in her, and she did too. She wished her the best, both of them, even. They deserved it.

"Ready to go?" John asked slowly, catching her attention back to the present.

"Yep. I am." She nodded, gazing up at him warmly, liking the way he looked, with the sun shining down on his face, creating an almost angelic hue. Ever since this whole thing had ended, it was as if a weight had been lifted from their shoulders.

It felt good. Good, to be able to smile, and feel the sun on their faces, without Bane looming over them, and their city.

They'd done it.

They were free.

"Good."

"I have to say I like this. Us. Free Gotham." Her eyes trailed upwards, and around them, taking it in.

His eyes followed hers, and she could tell he felt the same. "I agree entirely, Babs."

His lips lowered towards hers, and she tilted her head, accepting them with a small giggle, as her hand rose to cup his cheek. He was still a little taller than her, and she rose on her tiptoes to compensate the difference, as her heart fluttered in her chest. She particularly liked this.

"So," she whispered, pulling back after a moment, and returning to their previous position. "How did it go this morning? What did Wayne leave us? His china set?"

"Nope." John stopped, brushing a hand through her hair, and smirking as she waited for more information than that.

"Then what?"

"Get in and we'll see."

Barbara raised her eyebrow, and was about to ask, but saw the car awaiting them on the curb. John had already taken a step towards it, and she did the same, having learnt by now secrets tended to reveal themselves eventually.

She slid into the passenger seat and fastened her belt. That was when she spotted the duffel bag, wedged between her seat, and John's. She paused, looking inside at the contents.

A note was pinned to the top, though it granted little insight into what was happening. In fact, the sight of the Wayne Enterprise logo bossed at the top of the paper made her all the more confused as she read.

 _Diane and Barbara,_

 _I hope this contribution will aid you in your future endeavours. I wish I could have been of more service to you, but I can already see Gotham is in more than capable hands. You also might need this small token if you plan on expanding your team…_

 _Bruce Wayne_

 _P.S. - remind Robin that every bird eventually needs to learn to fly._

"GPS? Ropes? Why does this seem odd to me?"

"Bruce Wayne wasn't exactly your usual kind of man," John retorted, doing his own belt and starting the engine.

"So, he left us this?"

John nodded, pulling the vehicle back into the road, and gesturing to the GPS device laying between them. "Yep. So, I think we should follow his clues. See what this is about."

Barbara just nodded, unable to refrain from her curiosity. She picked up the device in her hand and hit the button on the front. Instantly, a location appeared, portrayed by a beeping pulse of red light, hovering in an x over the screen. Well, as they said, x marked the spot.

"What _are_ you up to Mr Wayne?"

* * *

It was about an hour or so later that they reached the end of Bruce's bizarre treasure hunt. Even from beyond the grave, Mr Bruce Wayne still had them running after him, and his secrets.

Barbara had watched as they made their way out of the city, the thick skyline of buildings being replaced by dense forest on either side of the road. Despite knowing the area as well as she did, Barbara had no clue where they actually were.

Signposts had long since disappeared from view as they veered off the actual road, instead, making their way across a beaten dirt track that seemed to draw them deeper and deeper into the woods.

Eventually, John knew the car could go no further. It was on foot from here.

"Where the hell are we?" he whispered, opening the door and stepping out into the unknown terrain.

"I wish I knew - it just says to go this way." The device was pulsing animatedly in Barbara's hand, indicating somewhere up ahead of them. Well, she said ahead of them but considering there was nothing but trees ahead, she felt as if she was running on blind faith here.

She held the device, thanking her decision to wear her beaten converse today as she hurried up the incline, leaving John to retrieve the duffel from the car. Somehow, she knew they were going to need it.

"Just a little further," she cried, turning back long enough to check John was following her down the trail, which winded down through the trees, heading towards – what sounded like- running water.

It was then John took a step forward, clambering up onto one of the mossy mounds ahead. He turned back, offering his hand down to Barbara. "You got it?"

"Yeah," she smirked back, a little confused and tired, as she jumped up beside him, and gazed around them to the mass of water surrounding them.

It was a massive river, stemming from a large waterfall, which cascaded the water down the cliff faces around them. The roar of the water was deafening, echoing off the rock faces surrounding them on either side.

There seemed no clear route ahead.

"Where now?"

"Just down there," John breathed, pointing to the GPS, and then looking back at the duffel bag of ropes.

Well, now they made sense, even if Barbara was a little hesitant to start abseiling and rock climbing. However, John just reached in the bag and took the ropes in hand. By this point, it took more than this to rattle them.

"A waterfall? Fun."

"Scared of a little water?"

Barbara scoffed, and stepped past him, taking the ropes for herself, and staring down below. "I'm just grateful I didn't wear jeans."

John laughed again, watching as they assembled their route down, through the waterfall. Eventually, it was time to go.

"After you," he smirked, testing the line with his hands. After he was satisfied he'd secured it properly he handed it over to her. "Ladies first?"

Barbara just stared at him.

Ok.

Seemed she was taking the leap of faith here. Good thing she never ran from a challenge.

"See ya at the bottom."

With that, they went, swinging their way through, becoming drenched as they hit the wall of water, and landed with a splash, in the deep waters beyond. It was so dark and cold. Barbara instantly gasped, releasing the ropes and turning, taking in the surroundings, hearing John land beside her.

"Oh… my… God…"

"Is this…?"

It was. There was no denying it. There was a suit, then the computers… this was where he'd been hiding all this time? Working out of here? This cave?

Then it hit her. This was what Bruce was leaving them? The three of them?

The Bat-cave.

Suddenly, she felt the weight fall on her shoulders, as she realised what it meant.

"No… way…"

She felt John wade beside her, taking her hand in his. Then she knew; Barbara Gordon finally knew what her future looked like, and it started here, the same way Bruce's had, rising from the darkness.

* * *

 _ **Oh my god. Here it is - the end of this story. I actually can't believe it. When I started publishing this story almost two years ago I never imagined I'd make it to the end, nor have such a wonderful following. Every single one of you who've read this, reviewed or favourited has honestly made this such an incredible experience. I couldn't have wished for more and I hope I did you justice.**_

 _ **I know I mentioned it before, but I am working on a sequel to this story. It won't be quite as long as this one but I don't feel quite ready to let these characters go just yet. Sorry! I have no idea when exactly it will be up, so keep an eye on here and follow the story as I'll likely post an update here to let you know it's live.**_

 _ **All the best,**_

 _ **Thesilentmage x**_


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